The Heart of Darkness
by KelleBelle
Summary: The Volturi, a new alliance, and a betrayal even Alice hadn't seen coming are all complications in Bella and Edward's plan to spend eternity together. But Bella is determined to die.... if she can just stay alive long enough.
1. Chapter 1

"I like these," Edward said, tapping the third cream-colored paper from the right. I looked over to the sample invitation that he'd indicated, and saw that it looked exactly like every other sheet of paper spread out on the table.

"Why?" I asked, half exasperated, half amused.

"It's the closest to white," he replied.

"So why don't we just choose white instead of—" I flipped the paper over and read the label printed on the bottom: "eggshell?"

"White would be too stark against black ink," Alice explained, setting aside the eggshell-colored paper and happily gathering the rest of the samples into a stack. For a brief, shining moment I thought we would be done for the day, but then Alice set a large leather-bound book in the invitations' place. I stared at its thickness apprehensively; I didn't think I could stand to look at any more cream-colored paper without threatening to call the whole wedding off, which might puncture Alice and Edward's ballooning enthusiasm.

"Colors!" said Alice happily, jiggling in excitement—or, rather, doing miniature pirouettes of excitement. I couldn't imagine Alice doing anything as ungraceful as jiggling.

"Colors? But I thought the invitations were supposed to be off-white?"

"They are," said Edward, leaning over my shoulder. His hair tickled my neck and I squirmed in my seat, momentarily distracted by his proximity. "I think these are for the linens, flowers, and bridesmaids' dresses?"

"Yes," Alice answered as she skipped past the first section of the book, which featured only various shades of cream.

"Alice, can't you just—figure out what I'd like now, so I don't have to look through all of these?" I said, trying very hard to keep the whine from my voice. I don't think I succeeded.

"I don't know what you'll decide until after you've seen the choices," Alice said, grinning at the disappointed look on my face. "Come on, Bella, this is the fun part!"

In response to the doubtful look on my face, Edward kissed the top of my head and then whispered, "We'll do something fun after this." His tone of voice was completely innocent, but the trace of his tongue against my ear indicated something else entirely. My heartbeat quickened, and I felt his lips curve into a smile before he turned his attention back towards the book and started turning pages.

"What do you think of red?" Alice asked, halting Edward's hand.

"Um, I don't think so," I said, staring at a sample swatch of material called "Blood Red." Edward turned to me and saw the direction of my gaze, but merely raised his eyebrows before continuing to the next section. I actually loved that shade of red, but with vampires comprising half the wedding party it seemed to call attention to itself.

"Pale yellow might be nice," Edward said thoughtfully, interrupting my thoughts.

"But for an August wedding?" Alice said doubtfully. "I don't know… what do you think, Bella?"

"Yellow does seem like more of a spring color," I answered, then shook my head in disgust; I was actually getting into this. The Cullens' enthusiasm must be catching.

"And I suppose it would clash with Rosalie's hair…" Alice murmured thoughtfully.

I couldn't imagine any color that wouldn't look stunning on Rosalie, but as she had only recently deigned to talk to me, I decided not to tempt fate by choosing a color for a bridesmaid dress that she could interpret as a slight. Privately, I knew it didn't matter what color I ended up choosing—Alice and Rosalie would always outshine me, even if they were dressed in old dishrags.

Alice turned the book to the blue section, and a sudden stillness swept across her face. She stared blankly ahead for a few moments, then turned to me and smiled. "Navy blue it is!" she chirped, pointing to a rich blue color. "Very elegant… perfect for a classic wedding… white and green-foliage accents would work very well…"

"Do you ever wonder if your visions are self-fulfilling prophecies?" I asked abruptly, thinking of Macbeth and the three witches. "I mean, what if you hadn't told me you'd 'seen' Edward and me choose blue, and I had continued looking through the book. Is it possible I would have chosen lavender instead?"

Edward gave me a mischievous smile. "Are you saying you'd _like_ to look through the rest of the colors?"

Alice, though, smiled somewhat ruefully. "Trust me, most days I think _all _my visions are self-fulfilling, which really makes me question how useful they are."

"Oh no, Alice, I didn't mean to offend you," I said quickly, mentally kicking myself for my unintentional gaffe. "Your visions have saved my life so many times—it was stupid of me to say that."

"No, it wasn't," Edward said, then looked at Alice and nodded—presumably in answer to her unspoken thoughts. "It's a topic we've debated many times. Carlisle and I were proposing ways of testing the extent of her visions' independence—if, for example, her not telling us the outcome of an event would alter our decisions, but eventually Jasper and Esme made us see sense—either way, her predictions are a part of her, and we just accept them."

"Edward's being too nice, as usual," Alice said, giving her brother a small smile. "What he's not telling you is how crazy it was driving me not being able to voice my visions aloud, and the constant doubt I felt about my ability. The emotional strain was just too much, and I decided it didn't matter."

"That makes sense," I said. "And I'm glad you saw this—you've just saved me from actually looking through this huge book."

"I think we'll leave the flowers for another day," Edward said to Alice, but just then, to my embarrassment, my stomach let out a growl.

"Bella, we have some food in the kitchen for you!" Esme called from the living room—of course, with her heightened senses, she could hear the evidence of my hunger from two rooms away.

Edward made to get up and join me in the kitchen but I stopped him. "I know you like looking through this stuff—you can't fool me," I said, grinning. "You can keep looking through it with Alice while I eat—then you can make good on your promise." Edward kissed me on the cheek and gave me a wink before I turned to leave for the kitchen. Esme was already waiting for me, setting out bread and mustard.

"Carlisle remembered to pick some things up on his way home from the hospital yesterday," she said, pulling down a plate as she spoke. "Edward said you liked roast beef and turkey, so we got some cold cuts and sandwich fixings for you."

"Thank you," I said, once again amazed at their thoughtfulness. In spite of my earlier reluctance to marry Edward, I couldn't keep a thrill of happiness from going through me at the thought that I would soon be an official part of their family—Bella Cullen.

My heart rate must have picked up from my excitement; Esme was looking at me with concern. "Are you all right, Bella? Is there something wrong with the food? It's been so long since I've prepared anything…"

"Oh, no! Nothing's wrong—I was actually just thinking how nice it was for you to go through all this trouble for me…. You always make me feel so at home here."

Esme's kind face looked even lovelier as she gave me a huge smile. "I can't tell you how happy we are about the wedding, and that you've decided to hold it in our home… I know a big ceremony isn't exactly what you would have chosen, but we're all having so much fun. Alice and Edward especially, I think."

I grinned as I spread mustard over two slices of bread. "I know. It's funny—I have the feeling most brides would kill for their—fiancée— to be so interested in the details." I was proud of myself for saying the word aloud with only the slightest hesitancy, and none of the usual incredulousness.

"During Edward's time weddings were very important public events," Esme said thoughtfully. "I know he's said before that his mother always wanted to see him married."

"Did she?" I asked, looking down at the engagement ring on my left hand. It sparkled tremendously, even in the fluorescent kitchen lighting. Not for the first time I wondered about Edward's mother—what she was like, how she had felt when she'd accepted this ring from Edward's father, what she imagined life would be like for her son when he was born….

"Edward was her only child, and she wanted him to be happy," Esme said softly. "I know I can never take the place of her in Edward's heart, but I love Edward as if he was my own son, and I know that marrying you will ensure his happiness for eternity. And for that, I will be forever indebted to you."

I didn't quite know what to say; I knew that Edward could hear our entire conversation as clearly as if he was standing next to us, let alone the additional nuances he could pick up from Esme's thoughts, but holding intensely private conversations about him without his presence made me feel slightly uncomfortable.

"I'm just as indebted to you and your family for my happiness," I said finally, looking away from Esme's intense gaze under the pretense of putting together my sandwich.

Esme touched her cold hand to my shoulder and left me to my thoughts.

I sat down at the kitchen table, looking at their sprawling backyard through the plate of glass that comprised the back walls of the house. I ate my lunch distractedly, my thoughts as thick and swirling as the dark clouds overhead. My conversation with Esme made me realize that there was so much about Edward's past I didn't know—basic details about his human life, as well as his early years as a vampire, were complete mysteries to me. Somehow, in all our time together, I still hadn't asked so many important questions.

I was so engrossed in my thoughts that it took me a few moments to realize that I was no longer staring at the Cullens' backyard, but rather at the reflection of a certain Cullen in the glass. The amber eyes were staring back.

"Edward!" I said, jumping a little as I realized he had been sitting silently next to me at the kitchen table. "I'm sorry, I was lost in thought…."

Edward studied my face, as though by memorizing the curve of my lips or the slope of my nose he could suddenly decipher my thoughts. There was something protective in the way he considered me, as though he was bracing himself to step between me and an oncoming truck—which, of course, he already had.

Guiltily, I realized he thought I was brooding over Jacob; I hadn't seen Jake since news of the engagement went public. Jake refused to see me and Billy would not pass along any messages, and finally I had to consider that dropping out of Jake's life completely was the only way I could be both loyal to Edward and kind to Jake.

I hadn't cried again over the loss of my best friend, and the realization that I would survive losing Jake was a brutal confirmation of what I had known all along. There was never any choice; self-fulfilling or otherwise, Edward was my future.

Seeing Edward's worried face pulled me instantly back to the present. I got up from my chair and sat in his lap, putting my arms loosely around his neck and giving him a smile. He smiled back and tugged me closer, the coolness of his body making me shiver only very slightly. I felt my heart rate increase, a response to both Edward's attractiveness as well as my body's way of increasing my internal temperature.

"Had fun with Alice?" I asked, trying very hard to feel interested in anything other than his body's close proximity to mine.

"Yes," he admitted, the sly grin on his face daring me to make fun of him for enjoying the deliberations over roses versus lilies or whatever flowers Alice had proposed.

"Good," I murmured, deliberately shifting my weight so that my breasts were pushing against his body. My nipples hardened from the cold of his marble chest, and I felt myself blush; okay, so I was the world's least subtle seductress, but I didn't care. I was going to lose my virginity in less than one month—twenty-eight days, to be exact—and to say I was looking forward to the experience would be like saying vampires liked their meat undercooked. A gross distortion of the facts, or understatement to the point of slander.

Edward closed his eyes and leaned toward me, kissing my neck and tracing his fingertips along my collarbone. His touch left a sensation of pinpricks in its wake, as though snowflakes had fallen on my bare skin and were melting into pools of icy water. I shivered again, unconsciously grinding my hips into his lap. I had never so blatantly sought out the pressure from his erection, and the brazenness of my own actions momentarily stilled me; the thought that I was becoming seriously turned on in the Cullens' kitchen filtered through the haze of my arousal, causing me to pull away. Vaguely, I wondered if Jasper was near enough that he could decipher my emotional state.

"Would you like to go to my room?" Edward said, correctly interpreting the reason for my sudden halt in the proceedings. His lips once again pressed against my ear, his tongue pleasantly cool against my overheated skin. "I did promise you some fun later."

To Be Continued


	2. Chapter 2

I buried my face in his neck and sighed, wishing I could take him up on his offer, but the thought of Charlie coming home was enough to clear my head completely. Fun would have to wait.

"I should be going," I said reluctantly, getting up from Edward's lap. "I wanted to make Charlie something nice for dinner…"

Edward nodded, and then moved faster than my eyes could follow; I blinked and he was standing in front of me again, my coat in one hand and his car keys in the other.

We were silent on the way back to my house, and I had a feeling we were both thinking about last week, when Edward had taken me home from the meadow with my engagement ring on display for the first time.

We had stood on my front porch, Edward holding me to his chest as I tried to gain some control over my breathing.

"I could go in by myself," he said, rubbing my back in a soothing circular motion. "I should ask his permission."

"Permission?" I said blankly, drawing back from him to look into his face. "Permission for what?"

Edward rolled his eyes at me. "To marry you, of course."

My nervousness was quickly overshadowed by my indignation. I narrowed my eyes at him and drew away completely, crossing my arms over my chest. "I do not need anyone's permission to do i anything /i ," I hissed.

"It's the gentlemanly thing to do," Edward said, mimicking my stance. Somehow, he managed to look more stubborn than I did. It probably had to do with the fact that his crossed arms were stronger than a steel deadlock. Stupid vampire.

"How did you miss the women's liberation movement?" I demanded, refusing to back down. "You were alive when it happened!"

"Technically, I wasn't," he said, smirking at me. "And the women's lib movement described in your history textbook wasn't just a bra-burning fit of pique. History is a much subtler progression, and I believe that the advances made in equality have no bearing on basic rules of etiquette. It is still considered a proper gesture for the man to ask permission for a lady's hand."

I gaped at him.

"You… you are i anti-feminist! /i " I choked out, horrified that he was actually going to ask Charlie i permission /i for me to marry him. "Ugh!"

Suddenly the front door flung open and the porch lights turned on; I blinked automatically, my eyes adjusting to the sudden brightness. Edward, of course, was unfazed.

"Good evening, Charlie," he said warmly.

"Are you kids fighting?" Charlie asked, surprise evident in his voice. Before Jake's 'motorcycle' accident Charlie would have sounded cheered by the prospect, but after seeing Edward's concern for Jacob, his opinion of Edward had significantly improved.

And tonight, Edward was going to use that to his advantage.

"No, not at all," Edward lied smoothly, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and subtly adjusting my body so that my left hand was angled away from Charlie's line of sight. "Would it be all right if Bella and I spoke with you for a moment?"

"Sure," Charlie said, surprised again; usually Edward and I just went to the kitchen to talk while Charlie watched whatever game was on TV. We would remain in the kitchen until the late hour meant Edward had to leave, at which time I inevitably went straight to bed, where we would resume our conversation until I fell asleep in his arms.

Edward and Charlie were smiling politely at each other as Edward escorted me into my own living room; I was scowling, and scrambling for a way to derail this conversation before it even started.

"Oh, are the Chiefs playing tonight?" I asked Charlie, digging into the recesses of my mind for a sports team he'd mentioned recently. Usually my brain discarded all sports-related trivia, but tonight I would have traded my passing grade on the calculus final for a few sports statistics I could use to distract my father. "I didn't realize it was baseball season already," I babbled on, looking at the television where two ESPN anchormen sat discussing the night's game. "We should probably let you finish that, before halftime…"

"The Chiefs are a football team," Charlie said, bemused. "Baseball season is just ending."

"And there's no halftime in baseball," Edward added, smiling at me as though I had said something charming.

I fought the urge to stick my tongue out at him.

"So, what did you two need to talk to me about?" Charlie said, his voice suddenly wary.

The moment was here; Charlie had asked me to give him advance warning if I was about to do anything major, to at least give him a chance to hug me goodbye. I was going to do him one better; he could give me a hug i and /i walk me down the aisle.

I was about to tell my father that I was engaged. To Edward. I took a deep breath, and steeled myself for his reaction.

"Mr. Swan," Edward began formally, speaking before I had even finished opening my mouth. "I am sure you are aware of how strongly I feel about your daughter. Bella is everything to me. I am in love with her, and I want your permission to spend the rest of my life making her happy."

It was as if I was frozen, trapped in the process of exhaling; air could no longer pass in or out of my lungs. I stared at Charlie, but he didn't look at me; instead he was watching Edward, studying his face for—what? Signs of insincerity? Was he hoping this was a joke? Or was he deciding on the best way to drum up false charges against Edward so he could throw him into Forks' single holding cell for the night?

Edward remained silent, not flinching away from Charlie's steady gaze.

Somehow, my lungs started working again, and I was able to speak.

"Dad, I know this isn't what you'd want for me," I said. Neither of them turned to look at me, but I continued, my voice growing stronger. "I know you think I'm young and that I'll regret it, but I won't. I know myself and I know Edward, and us being married—it's more than just right, Dad. It's fate. And I'm going to do it, with or without your—blessing. But I'd much rather have it." I whispered the last line, and Edward, his eyes still on Charlie, reached out and grasped my hand.

The movement caused my father to turn his gaze from Edward's face to my hands, which were clearly visible. My engagement ring reflected the flickering light of the television.

Charlie looked away from my left hand, clearing his throat. Our eyes met, and in that moment I realized how much Charlie's blessing would mean to me. I had really wanted to elope with Edward to Las Vegas, without my dad's or anyone else's knowledge (well, anyone except Alice's). But, now that he knew, I was terrified I wouldn't have his support—that he'd be too disappointed, too unhappy about my decision to celebrate with me.

Charlie finally returned his gaze to Edward. "I appreciate your candor," he said gruffly. "And I know how Bella feels about you, and that there's no stopping her when she's made up her mind. But if you ever leave her—if you ever cause her pain or suffering again—I will not rest until I have used every means at my disposal to find you, and I i will /i make sure you are not capable of setting foot near Forks again."

Edward nodded gravely, as if Charlie's threats against his person were plausible. "I understand. And I want you to know that Bella's happiness is the only thing that matters to me; being Bella's husband is the only thing that matters to me. I would rather die than leave her side."

Charlie nodded, and stood up from the armchair, suddenly looking uncomfortable. "Well, congratulations, Bella," he said finally.

"Oh, i Dad! /i " I cried, launching myself off the couch and into his arms. I was so happy, so relieved, that I felt like crying; I scrunched my face into his shoulder and hugged him, thanking any god that might be listening.

He hugged me back, for once not patting me on my back and pulling away after a few seconds. Now he held onto me tightly, as if he knew this was going to be the last time he'd be able to hold his daughter this way. Then I really i _was_ /i crying as I realized that wasn't far from the truth.

"I love you, Bella," he said, squeezing me tight once more before letting me go.

"I love you too, Dad," I said weakly, brushing away a few stray tears.

Edward held out a hand for Charlie to shake, and Charlie took his hand, then surprised me by pulling Edward into a brief one-armed hug.

"You take care of her, now," Charlie ordered, his voice sounding gruff once more.

"I will," Edward answered him, grave and solemn.

"I guess we'd better call your mom," Charlie said, turning back to me. "I think I should be here to help break the news."

"You're probably right," I agreed, my temporary high over Charlie's reaction subsiding as the prospect of breaking the news to my mother loomed ahead. I tried to calm myself, preparing to tell Renee that her life-long lecture—"The Disastrous Consequences of Marrying Your High School Sweetheart and Why You Should Wait Until College"—had failed to take root, and that I was to be married to Edward on August 4th.

"On second thought," Charlie said, as if he'd read my mind, "maybe we'd better let Edward do it."

I shied away from remembering the rest of the night. Edward had talked to my mother, but she had said nothing to him except to demand to speak to me. The following fifteen minutes were explosive; Renee and I had never had a reason to argue before, and I was terrified that our first fight would be the last thing that happened between us before I got married and "moved north"—the euphemism I used when thinking about my impending transition to a vampire.

I was glad when Edward pulled into my driveway, effectively distracting me from thoughts of last week's arguments. I noticed that the police cruiser wasn't in the driveway yet, which meant I had time to cook Charlie something nice for dinner. I felt I owed him at least that much—a few final weeks of me taking care of him before I had to leave.

Edward opened my car door for me and walked with me inside, where I started pulling ingredients for chicken stir-fry out of the fridge.

"Do you think you'll miss cooking?" Edward asked me as I picked up a knife, intending to begin slicing the vegetables. I blinked as I realized the onion I had meant to chop was gone, as was the knife I'd been holding. Instead, Edward was chopping it up on the counter beside me, completely immune to the onion's effects on human tear ducts.

"I don't know, it's not like I'm doing much of it now," I said sarcastically.

Edward immediately ceased dicing. "I'm sorry," Edward said, setting the knife on the cutting board. "I thought you'd want to begin on the chicken. I was just trying to help."

I sighed, annoyed with myself for getting annoyed with Edward. "No, I'm sorry, I'm being stupid. I thought you just didn't want me handling a knife."

"You are unusually dexterous in the kitchen," Edward said, smiling at me as he resumed his chopping. "I don't think knives pose any threat to you as long as it's a vegetable on the receiving end."

I smiled back, Edward's casual joking easing me into a sense of normalcy. "Well, to answer your question, I think the answer will be yes… and no. I don't think I'll have to give it up completely. In a few years, I'll be able to cook for Charlie again whenever we visit."

I kept my voice light and easy, and neither of us mentioned the possibility that it may be more than a few years before I'd see Charlie again.

center /center 

That night I woke suddenly, sitting up ramrod-straight in bed. I was panting as if I'd been running.

"Bella?" Edward said, touching my shoulder with his cold hand. "Are you all right? Did you have a bad dream?"

"I… I don't know. Did I say anything?"

"No," Edward said, stroking my hair. "You did start breathing a little fast right before you woke up, though."

"Huh," I said, unable to remember anything, which was unusual for me. Usually I had very vivid dreams. Unsettled, I glanced at my alarm clock, where the faint green light read 2 am.

"Are you anxious about anything?" Edward asked, sliding his hand up and down my back. "Are you nervous about the wedding?"

"I don't think so," I said, leaning into him. I knew he was trying to soothe me back to sleep, but I was wide awake. "Speaking of the wedding," I said suddenly, remembering something I'd meant to ask earlier today, "how many invitations are you and Alice ordering, anyway?"

Edward smiled at me. "Don't worry, I managed to reign in her enthusiasm. Outside our immediate families, we're only inviting about 20 guests."

i "Twenty? /i " I said, astonished that Alice had agreed to such a low number.

"I think I was able to convince her to keep the number down for Jasper's sake," Edward said, giving me a sly look. "We invited a few of our friends from the coven in Denali, and a few of your friends from school. And I think Carlisle invited one or two coworkers he's friendly with from the hospital."

"Oh, that's good," I said, relieved that, since they were forcing me to have a traditional wedding, that at least it wouldn't be gargantuan.

My mind strayed to my one friend that wouldn't be on the guest list—the one face it might be impossible for me to ever see again. I tried to shove the thought away, but the image of Jacob lying on his bed, an unfathomable expression on his face, recovering from his wounds—the worst of which I'd inflicted—haunted me.

"What's bothering you?" Edward asked me, pulling me against him. I was now using him like a giant body pillow—I nestled into his chest, wrapping my arms around him, my legs twining with his. He'd been thoughtful enough to wrap a few blankets over himself, so I was comfortably cool.

"I'm enjoying this," I said, dodging his question. I didn't want to blatantly lie to him, but I didn't want to tell him that I'd been brooding about Jacob while lying next to him. I had already hurt Edward enough.

I focused on the slight rise and fall of Edward's chest—a rhythm he maintained out of habit, not necessity. I raised my head slightly, placing a kiss at the hollow of his throat.

"I love you," I said, apropos of nothing.

"I love you, too," Edward murmured, running his fingertips through my hair. "Are you sure there's nothing on your mind?"

"Well… I was wondering about something…" I said, thinking back to my conversation with Esme in the kitchen earlier that day. I had promised myself I would ask the important questions now, while I was still more interested in my relationship with Edward than with a potential relationship with the nearest tasty human.

I cleared my throat softly, and shifted my position so that I was lying on my side, facing Edward. I took his hand in mine and traced tiny circles on the back of his hand. "Would it be okay if I asked you something about your—human life?"

"You can ask me anything, although I can't guarantee I'll remember much. My memories of my human life aren't particularly clear."

"I was wondering about your mother, actually," I said quietly. "What was she like?"

Edward was quiet for a minute, and his eyes became unfocused. After a few moments he spoke, though his expression remained as though he was staring at something I couldn't see.

"Her name was Elizabeth Masen," he began, and his voice sounded far away—like an echo of an echo. "She had green eyes, just a shade darker than mine… she was very beautiful, and I remember that she always wore a pair of white gloves whenever she went out. She wasn't very political, but she was very well-informed. She used to discuss my father's cases with him in the evenings…. Did I ever tell you my father was a lawyer? I'm named for him," he said, turning back to me.

"I didn't know that," I answered, smiling. "What kind of lawyer?"

"Estate planning. Thanks to him I was able to claim my family's assets after the epidemic. I was never interested in pursuing law as a career—I was much too eager to join the military to take my father up on his offer to join his firm—but my father encouraged me to read the books in his study, and I managed to pick up a few things." Edward smiled suddenly. "I'd bet he'd be very amused to know it was his library that kept the government from appropriating our family estate."

"You had a family estate?"

"I i do /i have a family estate," Edward corrected me. "The house in Chicago is still in my name—well, one of my names; I've had to forge a few wills over the years so that the government didn't keep trying to take it over every time I died."

"Oh," I said, absorbing this. I realized that Edward was probably wealthier than I had ever guessed.

Edward saw the disconcerted look on my face and deduced exactly what I was thinking. "Would you like to know how much property you'll be gaining by marrying me?" he said teasingly. "Perhaps we ought to get a prenuptial agreement, to make sure you get all my money if you ever try to leave me."

"That doesn't make sense," I said, vaguely remembering celebrity horror stories of prenups gone wrong. "Isn't the point of a prenup to protect the wealthier spouse?"

"That is usually the way it works," Edward said. "But I know that, if I wanted to prevent you from leaving me, all I'd have to do is make sure you robbed me of every penny in case of a divorce."

I laughed along with him, tucking my head in the curve between his shoulder and neck. His scent was stronger there, and I inhaled deeply, pressing the tip of my nose to his granite skin.

"Anything else you'd like to know?" he asked, and I could hear the smile in his voice. Now that he had control over his desire to drink my blood, he thought it was funny the way we both smelled so appealing to one another.

"What was it like, before WWI?" I asked, trying to picture Chicago nearly a century ago, on the brink of the First World War—the War to End All Wars, they'd called it…

"I don't remember too much—flashes, really," Edward said after a while. "My family was moderately wealthy, so we didn't feel the effects of rationing. But my mother didn't want me to join the army, and she kept me away from the recruitment stations. But she couldn't keep me from the passage of time—I was just months away from turning 18, and then I'd be drafted. I was very excited about it; it was all my friends and I could talk about."

"Did you have many friends who went to war?" I asked, suddenly worried that his past was even more tragic than I already knew.

"No, I was the oldest," he answered me. "Though my friend William had an older brother who was drafted in August 1918—they had just lowered the draft to men eighteen years old. I don't know what happened to either of them, though… the epidemic, and then Carlisle turning me, overshadows my memory of that time."

"Did you ever try to find your friends?" I asked, trying to be nonchalant. I knew I didn't fool him, though, because he tightened his arms around me, as if he could protect me from a truth I didn't want to hear.

"No," he admitted finally, still cradling me tightly to his chest. "By the time I had cultivated enough self-control to be around people comfortably, most of my friends would have been in their forties or fifties… I couldn't visit them, not when I still looked like a seventeen-year-old. At best they would have thought I'd fathered an illegitimate son; at worst, they'd think I was a ghost or a demon—in other words, they'd see me for what I was."

"Don't say that," I said, surprising us both with how angry my voice sounded. I was immediately remorseful for getting upset with him when he was sharing so much of his past with me; I had no right to be angry with him for the way he'd felt. Flushing slightly, I pressed my body against his deliberately, and kissed my way up to his ear.

"No ghost could feel as good as you do," I mumbled, and, on an impulse, I licked along his jaw line. It was like tasting a very dry popsicle, except eating popsicles made me shiver with cold rather than pleasure, as I was doing now. My cheeks burned, and I wondered if I was making a complete fool of myself. Did men liked to be licked? Or was I being weird?

Edward, however, seemed to enjoy my attempts at intimacy; he pressed back against me, and gently turned me so that I was lying on my back. He lowered himself on top of me gently, supporting his weight with his forearms on either side of my head.

His eyes met mine and, very deliberately, he lowered his gaze from my eyes, to my lips, to my neck, to my chest…

I was wearing cotton pajama shorts and a white t-shirt, and suddenly I wished I was wearing something sexier. I thought again of my mother's gift two Christmases ago, the Victoria's Secret silk pajamas that were undoubtedly stuffed in a cardboard box, yet to be unpacked in Florida.

But Edward distracted me from mentally tallying my wardrobe's deficiencies; in fact, I was quickly much more concerned with what I i wasn't /i wearing than with what I was.

Edward had moved so that one hand was resting on my collar bone. He was now balancing all his weight on a single forearm, and a small, slightly hysterical corner of my mind realized Edward would look amazing doing one-handed push-ups, military-style, with no shirt on…

Edward's palm traced my collar bone and slowly slid over my chest, where it was extremely obvious that I wasn't wearing a bra. I felt my nipples harden beneath the thin jersey-knit material, and my already flushed cheeks felt like they were on fire.

His eyes met mine as he cupped my left breast with his hand. I hadn't expected this to feel so good—I had touched myself there plenty of times, and it felt no different than stroking my arm or leg or stomach. Now, though, the soft skin there felt electrified, and my heart was beating erratically. That same hysterical corner of my mind speculated that maybe only someone else could turn you on this way—like how it was impossible to tickle yourself…

Edward squeezed my breast gently, pressing his palm against my nipple, applying pressure in a slightly circular motion. To my extreme embarrassment I moaned, and instinctively pressed my hips up off the bed, seeking friction.

He stilled his movements, then swiftly rolled away so that he was lying beside me once more.

The sounds of my ragged breathing filled the silence. Edward had never touched me there—or anywhere else—with such deliberation; I wondered why he stopped—was my heart beating too fast, a temptation made even more impossible to resist by his proximity to my breasts? Or perhaps my breasts—which barely filled out a B-cup—weren't enough to hold his interest…

Edward cleared his throat. "I hope you didn't mind that…" he said, sounding very unsure of himself. It was so unlike him that I turned to face him, staring at him questioningly.

"I had to stop, for fear of losing control," Edward explained, an apologetic frown on his lips.

I sighed, relieved that at least it wasn't my lack of extraordinary breasts that had caused him to stop. "I'm sorry, I couldn't stay calm enough… my heart just wanted to beat out of my chest…"

Edward looked confused for a fraction of a second before he gave a soft chuckle. "No, not that kind of control. I was worried that, if I continued, I would be tempted to take more liberties with your person than is entirely appropriate."

"Oh, well if that's all," I said, grinning as I settled myself back on top of him.

Finally my heart slowed into its normal steady rhythm, and I let my eyes drift closed.

Edward heard the change. "You should sleep now, Bella," he whispered, kissing me softly on top of my head. "I think Alice has a big day planned for you tomorrow."

"Now I really i will /i have nightmares," I said, but there wasn't any sourness in my voice; I was far too comfortable to be perturbed by Alice's next torture.

And, just as suddenly as I'd been jostled from sleep, I felt myself sliding back into slumber.


	3. Chapter 3

The next day I found myself being forcibly taken to Seattle in Alice's yellow Porsche.

"You do realize you were asking for trouble dragging me along, right?" I grumbled, though I found it hard to sound as stern as I'd meant to; I hadn't noticed when we were bribing our way through Volterra's streets, but these leather seats really i were /i quite comfortable. Almost comfortable enough to put me at ease with this bizarre shopping expedition.

Almost.

"We won't have any trouble," Alice chirped, downshifting into third gear as she passed a few more cars. She turned and grinned at me, not paying the slightest attention to the road as she slid deftly back into the left lane. The cars twenty feet in front of us hurriedly put on their turn signals and moved out of her way. She was still laughing her tinkling laugh as she zoomed along the interstate, the entire left lane now devoid of law-abiding vehicles. "I happen to know that today's shopping trip will be a tremendous success."

"You should be using your superpowers for good, not evil," I said, and Alice laughed again. To my surprise, so did Rosalie.

When Edward told me last night that Alice had plans for me, I had expected something like this. What I hadn't expected was for Rosalie to tag along.

Rosalie had even insisted that she take the back seat so I could sit up front with Alice.

Of course, I'd protested. "You're about a foot taller than me!" I'd said, craning my neck to meet her gaze. I thought it emphasized my point nicely.

But she had simply smiled and said, "Today is for you."

I didn't know what was more worrying: Alice's driving or Rosalie's friendliness.

But maybe I was being too hard on her… she did come to my room that night and try to convince me to stay human, not because she didn't want me with Edward (well, not mostly, anyway), but because of her own experiences and regrets. I couldn't help but feel extremely sympathetic towards her. Just when she thought she'd had it all—a successful fiancé, wealth, popularity, and children on the horizon—she had been raped by a man she'd trusted and left to die.

It was hard i not /i to cut her some slack.

"So we'll be stopping by a spa first," Alice said, turning off the highway. I blinked; the car had moved so quickly that I had barely noticed we were getting off. I was momentarily distracted by the directional change, so it took a few moments for her words to register.

"Oh, good," said Rosalie. "I've been wanting to get my nails painted for ages."

"A spa?" I said, incredulous. "I am i not /i going to a spa."

"Oh yes, you are," said Alice. "If you're going to become one of us you need to have your hair cut, your nails shaped and painted, and your skin exfoliated. You might also want to get your legs and bikini line waxed," she added. "We can do that today, and again right before the wedding."

I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. I stared at her in abject horror, wondering for the first time if Edward had known all about Alice's plan—he had definitely mentioned something about torture.

"It's a good idea, Bella," Rosalie said, leaning from the back seat so that she was sitting closer to the front. She was able to do this because she wasn't wearing a seat belt. "Once you transform, your hair, nails, and skin will stop growing and become nearly indestructible. Then you can't make any changes. Think about it: stuck for eternity with i split ends. /i " She ran a hand through her blonde hair—which was styled curly today—as if to make sure her strands were still in perfect condition, though of course their condition hadn't changed for decades.

"That's one thing I really regret," Alice said, her dark eyes flashing to the rearview mirror to examine her reflection. "I don't know how long my hair was before they shaved it off at the asylum, but there are only so many ways to style hair that's two inches long."

When they put it like that, I realized that my own hair, which now fell to the middle of my back, could definitely use a trim. I suddenly had a better idea of why Rosalie was coming along. It was much harder to ignore two voices advising me to succumb to one day at the spa in exchange for an eternity with a hairstyle I could live with—or rather, a hairstyle I could die with.

"Okay, you've convinced me," I said wearily, though it didn't really matter what I thought; Alice had already parked the Porsche in front of large modern building with a sign reading i Lotus Lake Spa /i in sophisticated lettering.

Rosalie hopped out of the backseat and reached the door first, her three-inch stilettos making clicking noises on the spa's tile floors.

"May I help you?" asked the woman behind the reception desk. Her voice was husky, and traces of a Spanish accent colored her words so that, coupled with her almond skin and toffee eyes, she was beautifully foreign-looking.

I thought fleetingly that she would make a stunning vampire, and then wondered if I hadn't developed preemptory symptoms—like vampire PMS.

"Are you okay?" Alice asked me, eyeing me as Rosalie gave the exotic receptionist our appointment time. "You look a little strange."

"I'm fine," I said. "Just nervous about hot wax being dripped in extremely private places."

"You'll thank me for this over the next few centuries," Alice said confidently, and smiled as we followed the receptionist into the next room.

This room was evidently the hair salon. Several women had their hair wrapped in foil and turbans, while others were chatting animatedly to men in tight black pants as they made precarious-looking swipes at their hair with flashing scissors. The smell of hair dye competed for dominance with something that might have been floral.

"Hi, my name's Regina. Welcome to my salon!" a high voice sang out, and all three of us turned as a woman with short grey hair came walking up to us, her heels almost as high as Rosalie's. "Who's the lucky bride-to-be?"

Despite her grey hair Regina didn't look a day older than 35, an impression that was reinforced by a skintight black dress that showcased her décolletage and fell just above her knees, so that her tanned calves were visible. I wondered how much plastic surgery and fake tanner had gone into the improbable vision standing before us.

I was so absorbed in my efforts to approximate Regina's age that I almost didn't notice she'd directed her question to Alice and Rosalie. Apparently, my plain appearance didn't make me a likely contender in the fiancée category.

"Bella is going to be married in a few weeks," Alice said, gesturing to me. The woman's smile froze as her gaze slid over my face, taking in my chocolate brown eyes, pin-straight dark hair, and translucent skin. I could practically see her cataloguing the many changes she'd have to make in order for the makeover to be complete.

"I just want my hair trimmed," I said hurriedly, trying to stave off any thoughts she had of blonde highlights or perms.

"And a full facial treatment, manicure and pedicure, and bikini wax," Alice added. I turned to glare at her, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment, but Alice ignored me.

"I'm sure we can fix her up," Regina said, sounding as though she hadn't given up hope on the highlights yet. I sighed and followed her to the chair farthest from the entrance to the room.

"Maximilian!" Regina called, pushing me into the chair and throwing a long black apron around my front. "Your afternoon appointment is here!"

A tall, slender man with spiky pink hair and a silver eyebrow ring walked toward us, crossing his lightly toned arms in front of his muscled chest. His form-fitting black t-shirt and pants made his bubblegum hair stand out even more than it would have normally. Overall, I thought he looked like a very gay guitarist in a punk band. I was half right.

"You're Bella Swan?" he asked, and his melodic voice surprised me; I'd expected something throatier.

"Yes," I replied, trying to smile at him. I think I mostly failed—I was too busy wondering where he was hiding his cutting shears.

Alice gave me a quick peck on the cheek before leaving with Regina on a private tour of the spa. I worried about what ideas Regina might give Alice without me present to run interference.

"Congratulations on your engagement!" Maximilian said, interrupting my dark musings on Alice's plans. He swiveled me in my chair so that we both faced the mirror, and for the first time he caught a glimpse of Rosalie.

His eyes grew almost comically round. "Wow, aren't i you /i perfectly delish!" he said, stunned.

Heads turned towards us and the mouths of several people dropped. Rosalie would have attracted less attention if she was Jessica Simpson

Rosalie granted him a small smile, though that might have been because of his choice of words—after all, she \was probably thinking the same thing about him. Of course, she meant it in the literal sense.

"Call me Max, by the way," he added conspiratorially to both me and Rosalie. "Regina thinks Maximilian sounds more fashionable, but nobody's called me that since before I lost my virginity."

He gave a self-deprecating laugh and I giggled, though I my face still felt hot. I thought again about how nice it would be when my embarrassment would no longer be advertised to the whole world.

"So what look are you going for?" he said, holding up strands of my hair and eyeing them critically. "Your hair's in remarkably good condition—what products do you use?"

"Um…" I stalled, not wanting to admit that I used generic shampoo and conditioner from the grocery store.

"She uses Sisley, from Saks," Rosalie said, saving me from further embarrassment. Max turned to her and smiled, nodding enthusiastically.

"It's not cheap, but I find it's i so /i worth it," he said, running a comb through my hair. "Of course, it doesn't look like you style it at all. Have you ever tried loose curls? Or do you prefer it straight?"

"I never really thought about it," I admitted. I also never thought about nail polish or my bikini line, but I kept that to myself.

"Well you have a great facial structure—really nice cheekbones," Max said, parting my hair on the left so that a sweep fell over my right eye. "You have a widow's peak, which really accentuates your heart-shaped face… you should probably stay away from bangs, as a rule. But I think some nice long layers in the front would really make your eyes pop."

I nodded, not bothering to question how my hair cut would make my nondescript brown eyes any more interesting. They wouldn't be that shade of brown much longer anyway. At least a few layers wouldn't be that noticeable, and they'd make Alice happy—a win-win situation.

Max led me over to the sink where he began washing my hair, his big hands massaging my scalp in the warm water. It was such a pleasant feeling that I nearly forgot about the impending horrors of hot wax.

"Now, tell me about this man of yours," Max said, winking at me as he toweled my hair. I sat back in the chair and tried to avoid looking at my reflection in the mirror—with my hair dripping wet and the black apron draped over me I looked like a drowned cat.

"He's… beyond description," I said, struggling to find a way to convey to a stranger the perfection that is Edward Cullen.

"Do you have a picture?" Max asked, combing out my hair once more. He pulled a pair of scissors from his back pocket and began snipping.

"I do," Rosalie answered him, pulling out a snapshot from her pocketbook. I stared open-mouthed at her—I would have pinned her as the least likely of the Cullens to be sentimental enough to carry around photographs.

"He's the shorter one with brown hair," she said to Max, pointing him out. I couldn't see the picture, though of course I knew exactly what Edward would look like—calm, with a small smile playing around his lips, and a lock of bronze hair sweeping across his forehead. I watched as Max's eyes threatened to pop out of his head.

"He's i gorgeous /i ," Max said finally, still staring at the photo. "Are all of them part of a modeling agency?"

"No, they just have really fortunate genetics," I said dryly.

"I'll say!" Max said, just barely managing to tear himself away from the photo long enough to resume trimming my hair. "I can't believe you let him out of your sight—if he was mine I'd drag him i everywhere, /i just for the eye candy!"

The way Max said it wasn't insulting, and I liked him even more for not giving me the obvious double-take most people did when they realized a guy like Edward had chosen a girl like me.

"So is he really amazing in bed?" Max asked casually, his hands flying as he pulled long strands of hair up with his comb before snipping away miniscule amounts. For what felt like the hundredth time that day I blushed.

Rosalie and Max both laughed at my tight-lipped expression, and despite the unreality of the conversation I found I was actually enjoying myself. Max seemed like someone who, had we met in another lifetime—a lifetime that didn't include my imminent death—I would have been good friends with. Rosalie just seemed content to be around someone as concerned with style as she was.

He and Rosalie continued to chat about wedding dresses and the year's best and worst fashion trends, and I chimed in occasionally until the drone from the blow dryer made conversation impossible.

Max had turned my chair away from the mirror so I couldn't see while he was styling my hair, but once he declared my hair finished, he quickly whirled me around.

"Perfect," Rosalie said, smiling at him and giving me an approving look. I could hardly take my eyes off the stranger in the mirror: my hair was still long—and thankfully still the same shade of dark brown—but the subtle layers really i did /i frame my face, and it looked much shinier than usual.

"I just used a shine serum," Max explained, running his hands through the glossy strands. "I kept the style simple—it shouldn't take you more than five minutes in the morning."

"Thanks," I said, genuinely awed that my hair had turned out so well.

"Let me know if you need a stylist for the wedding," Max said, unbuttoning the apron and helping me to my feet—I'd nearly tripped over the chair's footrest climbing out. "I'd i love /i an opportunity to meet your Edward." He gave me a final wink before sticking his scissors in his back pocket and leaving to see Regina, who was greeting more customers at the front desk.

"Bella!" Alice said, startling me as she appeared by my side. She smiled radiantly, inspecting my freshly styled hair. "This is perfect!"

"Where were you?" I asked curiously, hoping that she hadn't thought of any more treatments for me

"Oh, sorry about that. Tanya called," she said, frowning.

"What did she say?"

Alice sighed and her shoulders slumped. "Tanya isn't coming to the wedding," she said. "Since Irina's still upset about Laurent, Tanya's going to stay with her in Denali. So only Kate is coming."

"I'm sorry," I said, though I found it difficult to muster up too much concern for Irina—Laurent i had /i tried to eat me, after all.

"Well, that leaves the guest count at only eighteen."

"It's going to be a beautiful wedding, no matter how many people show up," I said, giving her a hug. "Edward and I are just happy you're planning it."

"You're getting i married?!" /i a voice shrieked, causing me to jump. A few feet away Jessica Stanley and Lauren Mallory were staring at us, and Jessica's curly hair gave her an even more shocked look, as though the coils were standing on end in surprise.

"Jessica, Lauren," I greeted them, trying to smile. I felt my heart rate increase as I imagined the thoughts that must be running through their minds-- i How did she trap him into that? Cullen must have knocked her up, and now they're having a shotgun wedding… /i 

It was probably a good thing Edward wasn't here so he i couldn't /i read their thoughts. I would never want his happiness over our wedding ruined over their pettiness.

And just as suddenly as Jessica and Lauren appeared, reminding me of all the reasons why I was originally reluctant to marry Edward, it hit me: I had absolutely no reason in the world to give in to my fears about other people's prejudices, whether they were my mom's or Jessica's or the Pope's.

"Yes, Edward and I are getting married in August," I said loudly, attracting the attention of several people in various stages of hair styling

"Oh, Ms. Mallory! Getting ready for another modeling appointment?" Regina said, swooping down on Lauren and fingering her cornsilk hair, which was barely long enough to reach her chin. "I think Geoffrey could manage to squeeze you in today!"

"We changed our minds," Lauren said. Regina's smile slipped slightly and she walked away to attend to another client. I noticed Lauren avoided the question about modeling—maybe her big break hadn't happened yet.

"It was nice seeing you," Rosalie said, staring down Lauren and Jessica in the way only gorgeous women can, simultaneously dismissing you and making you wonder when your self-esteem had taken its leave of absence.

Jessica and Lauren left, pausing to look back before they walked out the door, talking in whispers the whole time. As soon as they were gone Alice turned to me, her expression apologetic.

"I'm so sorry, Bella. I didn't see that happen."

"It's okay, Alice," I said, smiling at her.

"You sure you're all right? I know you didn't want the whole town to know, and Jessica and Lauren are bound to call everyone…"

"It's okay," I repeated. "It doesn't matter to me anymore. Really," I reassured her when she continued to look at me skeptically.

"You're handling this very well," Rosalie observed, considering me thoughtfully.

"Maybe I've done a bit more growing up," I said, smiling at Rosalie. I could tell by the way she smiled back that she understood what I meant.

"Now, I hear there's more torture lined up for me today." I gave a mock groan and Alice finally grinned back.

"You'll forgive me before the century is out," she assured me. I managed to laugh, though I had a feeling I would probably do a lot of yelling and crying very soon. But any tears I shed wouldn't be over what people in Forks thought of my plans to marry Edward Cullen.

center /center  
Alice and Rosalie dropped me off at home and carried in several hundred pounds of clothes from the car before they waved good-bye. My room, which was small enough to be called cozy, was bursting with shopping bags. I eyed the hot pink Victoria's Secret bag with a mix of anticipation and nerves.

I still couldn't believe Rosalie and Alice had managed to convince me to shop there. I had protested at first, but they had arguments ready.

"If you don't buy lingerie here, Alice will just order you something French and expensive," Rosalie said. She examined her newly-painted nails as she spoke, appearing utterly indifferent to the argument. But she didn't fool me for a second. She was enjoying this just as much as Alice was, though probably her enjoyment had more to do with watching me squirm.

"Please, Bella?" Alice pleaded, long eyelashes fluttering as her porcelain doll lips pouted. "Think about what Edward wants, too. This isn't just your wedding. Don't you want to make him happy?"

"That's not fair!" I snapped, starting to get angry. "Edward doesn't care about what I'm wearing!"

"Of course he will, once he sees you in it," Rosalie argued. "Bella, if there's one thing I've learned over the years, it's what men want. And trust me, just because Edward's a gentleman doesn't mean he's not a i man /i ."

Heat crept up my neck as her words reminded me of Edward's response that day in the meadow, when I asked if he found me my body attractive, or just the blood pumping through it. i I may not be human, but I'm still a man. /i 

"You can either have a say in what we buy now, or I'll make Edward pick out lingerie from La Perle," Alice threatened. I didn't know what La Perle was, but I could guess from Alice's tone that it would be my worst conception of lingerie, and pricey as well.

"This is such a i waste," /i I said, desperate now. "I am i not /i wearing lingerie!"

"You want to go to bed in white cotton panties and a ratty t-shirt on your wedding night?" Rosalie said, arching her eyebrows.

"Think of it this way, Bella: any clothes you buy today will fit you forever, so it's not wasting money," Alice wheedled. A clique of high-school girls eyed Alice curiously. They probably wanted to know what miracle diet could accomplish such a feat. But Alice continued, oblivious—or, more likely, indifferent—to the odd looks she'd received. "Besides, if you don't shop now you'll have to wait i years /i until you can go out in public again."

"And it'll be an inconvenience for everyone to shop for you until you adjust. You'll go through clothes much faster as a newborn—you'll rip things all the time until you get used to your strength," Rosalie added. Like Alice, she didn't bother to lower her voice. Strangers stared as they passed by, though that was probably inevitable as Alice and Rosalie were bound to attract attention regardless of what they said.

I sighed and pushed my hair away from my forehead while Alice and Rosalie waited. I was tempted to give in just to prevent bystanders from overhearing any more of our strange conversation. Reluctantly, I admitted they were probably right about me ruining my clothes as I adjusted to my body's new strength and speed, not to mention all the additional damage I'd cause just from being so accident prone. Instead of getting battered by vans, breaking glass, and rushing water, I'd be the one doing all the damage to inanimate objects.

And what if Rosalie and Alice were right about Edward expecting something nicer than Hanes on our wedding night? Steeling myself, I nodded once and walked into the store and straight to the nearest panty table.

"Ugh, it's like an atomic bomb when off," a saleswoman was saying as she sorted through heaps of underwear. "How do people mess them up so quickly?"

"They should call them WMD's—Women of Mass Destruction," a second worker joked.

"Excuse me," I'd said, and the two women looked up with the same vapid smiles on their faces. "Where can I find your bridal collection?"

Which was how I'd come to possess a full shopping bag's worth of white lacy panties, bras, and babydolls.

I took the Victoria's Secret bag and stuffed it under my bed, hoping no one would have cause to look there. It seemed unlikely that Charlie would find it, and I hoped my hiding place would spare us both that embarrassment. I don't think I could stand another attempt at a sex talk.

Downstairs I heard the door slam, and I jumped.

"Bella!" Charlie yelled. "Something came in the mail for you!"

"Coming!" I called back. Mobilized into action, I gathered all the shopping bags and piled them into my closet.

I went downstairs and saw Charlie sitting at the table. A large brown package was on the counter behind him.

"Hey Bells," Charlie said, his smile turning into a look of confusion. "Are you wearing makeup? You look different today."

"No, I just had my hair cut," I explained. "Alice and Rosalie made me."

"Rosalie? I didn't know you hung around with her."

"I usually don't, but today she made an exception."

"Huh. Guess she's getting used to you being around," Charlie shrugged. "Anyway, a package came for you. It's from your mother." The way he said it was so casual it had to be deliberate.

The last time I'd spoken to my mother was the night Edward told her we were getting married. Sudden fear stabbed at me—what if she was sending my stuff back because she never wanted to see me again? A panicky voice in my head wondered if this box contained my Victoria's Secret silk pajama set. Wouldn't that be ironic? I picked the box up from the counter, and the sight of my mother's handwriting on the address label made my throat dry.

"I'll open this upstairs," I said, my voice barely louder than a whisper.

"I'll be down here if you need me, Bells," Charlie said, and I could feel him watching me as I carried the package back upstairs to my room.

I figured there was no sense in prolonging the torture. I grabbed a pair of scissors and sliced through the packing tape, the sound of ripping cardboard somehow amplified by my trepidation. An envelope rested on a layer of old newspapers and my hands shook slightly as I opened it, unfolding the notebook paper to read my mother's note.

i Dear Bella,

I know I said a lot of things out of shock during our last conversation. I never wanted to hurt you, but I feel responsible for your happiness. I only want what's best for you. I'm sending you a few things that I hope will help you make the right decision.

Please think about what I said. Don't repeat my mistakes.

I love you,

Mom /i 

I blinked back tears as I folded the letter, though I couldn't say whether they were mostly tears of anger or sadness. I blindly grabbed wads of newspaper, eager to empty the box and get it over with.

To my surprise, the box was already mostly empty. I fished around the bottom until I had pulled out the only two objects in the package—Rusty, my old stuffed kangaroo, and my diary from sixth grade.

It was a plain black journal with the word "Diary" spelled across the front. I remembered buying this during my mom's infamous Self-Help phase. One of the books she read recommended keeping a diary of all your hopes, dreams, and goals. The self-help gurus loved saying you couldn't move forward until you knew where you wanted to go, so she'd encouraged me to write down everything I wanted to accomplish.

I unceremoniously packed Rusty back into the cardboard box, more angry at Renee's transparent attempt to manipulate me than sentimental about seeing my childhood companion. I didn't put the diary back, though. I sat down on my bed and opened it to the first page, curious to see what my sixth-grade self had envisioned for the future.

My penmanship was, if possible, even sloppier than the handwriting in my Biology notes from junior year I squinted to make out the loopy letters, which were all but illegible:

i Dear Diary,

Today Mom bought you for me, and said I should write down ten things I want to do in my life before I turn thirty (I asked why thirty, but she just shrugged). I told her I just want to read and go to school and hang out with my best friend Mary, but Mom's unstoppable when she gets like this. So, here's my list of goals:

center Ten Things I'll Do Before I'm Thirty /center 

1. Survive sixth grade. And sixth-period gym.  
2. Talk to Jeremy Houston without blushing  
3. Finish /i Anna Karenina i  
4. Go to college (someplace tropical with plenty of beaches—Miami maybe?)  
5. Have successful career (journalism?)  
6. Find and marry Mr. Darcy  
7. Buy a blue Victorian house with a wrap-around porch and dusty attic (but not haunted like Mary's)  
8. Travel to Australia  
9. Get my ears pierced  
10. Make a difference in the world /i 

I flipped through the rest of the pages, but there were only a few entries after the first. I remember making it a New Year's resolution to write regularly, but recording everyday minutiae was just too depressing. Once Renee got over the Self-Help fad she stopped insisting I make lists of goals and dreams, and my diary became one of the few books on my shelf to gather dust.

The sound of distant thunder interrupted my thoughts. "Hi," a voice said, and my heart leapt.

"Edward!"

He finished climbing through my window and closed it, the sounds of the coming storm muffled once again. Edward sat next to me on the bed and examined my face carefully.

"Charlie's worried about you," he said finally, a slight crease between his eyes.

"I'm fine," I said, glancing down at the diary still in my lap. It was open to my list on the first page.

"What's this?" he asked, following my gaze. I handed it to him wordlessly, slightly embarrassed about my sixth-grade fantasies.

"It's just something my mom wanted me to remember," I said, trying to sound dismissive. Edward read quickly, then turned back to me slowly.

"Are you upset?" he asked finally.

"Sort of," I answered honestly.

"Would you like to postpone the wedding so you can do some of these things?" he said, his amber eyes softening as he regarded me seriously. "I don't know about college or a successful career, but the house and Australia are definitely possible. And you've already made a difference in i my /i world."

I blinked at him before realizing the miscommunication.

"I'm not upset about the list," I said, smiling slightly. "Those were just silly ideas my mom made me write down. I'm just upset about the reason Renee sent it to me."

"Ah," was all Edward said.

"I can't believe I considered journalism as a career," I joked, trying to lighten the mood. "I would have hated being a reporter. I'd get so nervous I'd stammer through every interview."

"You will be wonderful at anything you choose to do," Edward said, leaning over to kiss the top of my head. "Though I would worry about your propensity for attracting danger. You'd be reporting on a wildfire and probably get burned."

"Or blown away if I was covering a hurricane," I agreed, laughing softly.

Edward laughed with me, then took my diary and a pen from my desk. He opened the book to a new page and wrote something at the top, then handed it to me.

At the top of the page, written in script so elegant it might have been calligraphy, were the words, "Ten Things I'll Do Before I'm Nineteen."

I felt the mood between us change, as if the storm had entered my room. Electricity buzzed in the air and an imaginary breeze raised goose bumps along my arms. I was the weathervane, spinning in the wake of Edward's storm.

I took the pen from him and carefully wrote out, i 1. Lose my virginity. /i I handed the pen and paper back to Edward. "You have to write ten, too," I said softly.

"But I'm already over nineteen," he said, his lips ghosting across my cheek as he kissed me.

I took the pen and wrote below Edward's title, "Ten Things We'll Do After We're Married."

"Here," I said.

He nodded and, underneath my entry, wrote, i 2. Make love to Bella Cullen. /i I blushed furiously but thrilled at his words.

i 3. See the world, /i I wrote next, thinking of a likely visit to Antarctica as well as my earlier desire to visit Australia.

"We'll have the longest honeymoon in history," Edward murmured as he read my words. He squeezed my hand before taking the pen from me and writing, i 4. Teach Bella how to play baseball. /i 

"I already know how to play baseball," I said, remembering my first evening with the Cullens.

"You thought baseball had half-time, and that the season began in fall," Edward pointed out.

I did not dignify that with a response, except to write i 5. Beat Edward and Emmett in an arm-wrestling match. /i I smiled, imagining how nice it would be to finally be better than Edward at something—even if it was only for a year.

Edward laughed, then penned, i 6. Buy Bella a really fast car and challenge her to a race. /i 

"I'm not abandoning my truck," I huffed, though secretly I thought the idea of Edward drag racing was sort of hot. It might even be worth it to let him buy me a car just to see the intense, joyous look on his face as he attempted to break the sound barrier.

"Once you can walk faster than the speed limit you'll be begging me for a car," Edward teased, tracing an ice-cold finger down my neck. The image of Edward and me speeding along an abandoned road made me shiver as his skin touched mine.

i Who said discretion was the better part of valor /i , I thought, and muttered, "We'll see who's begging who." Edward raised his eyebrows at me. I flushed as I slowly wrote i 7. Learn to give amazing blow jobs. /i 

I handed the diary to Edward and he studied it passively. I knew he was perfectly aware of my heart fluttering in my chest and I wondered, briefly, if he would miss this one insight into my thoughts and feelings.

Edward didn't look at me as he wrote a response to my entry. A part of me—a very large part of me—was terrified that I was doing this wrong. Even as I felt my body responding to fantasies of Edward, even as I sensed the heat rising along my skin and making me i hunger /i for Edward's touch, I wondered if I seemed terribly naïve. Although Edward was as virginal as me, he still had a century of human experiences to work with, plus an unobstructed view into every person's most intimate thoughts. What did I know about being sexy? No matter how much lingerie Rosalie and Alice made me buy, I would still be uncoordinated and tomato-red once it came off.

I was so busy fighting the simultaneous urges to jump Edward and jump out the window that it took me a second to comprehend what Edward had written.

i 8. Make Bella scream my name. /i 

I looked at him looking at me. His head was tilted towards the bed, so that he gazed at me through his dark eyelashes. I knew intuitively that, if he was capable of it, he'd be just as flushed as I was.

My heart beat faster as I placed the diary on my nightstand and climbed onto Edward's lap, straddling him.

"Nine," I whispered, letting my warm breath ghost against his ear. "Make Edward's every fantasy come true."

I felt sick with lust; my head was literally buzzing, and I was unable to stop myself from kissing along his jaw line. My hands clenched his shoulders tightly, as though I was trying to anchor myself to him.

"Bella," he said, and while he'd probably meant it as a warning, the way the words came out sounded more like a moan. The thought of Edward losing his self-control—the self-control he wore like a shield every moment of every day—undid me. I pushed my hands underneath his shirt and rocked against him. I felt the pressure of his erection pushing against my jeans, and the jolts of pleasure made my thighs shake.

"Please," I gasped, and I wrapped my arms around his neck and moved my hips back and forth, putting as much force into the motion as I could. I felt myself getting sweaty, and my cotton underwear becoming damp. I imagined him entering me… if only I didn't have these clothes on…

Edward's only answer was to flip me onto my back and continue the frantic rhythm I'd started, holding his upper body erect and thrusting against me.

I tugged him down so that his chest was flush with mine as we moved our hips in tandem. Even through two layers of clothing his body mimicked the sensation of stepping into an air-conditioned room after hours spent lying in the sun. The coolness swept over me, and I wanted to dig my fingernails into his skin, rake my hands through his hair, pant into his mouth how much I loved him, wanted him, i needed /i him inside me.

"Edward," I whispered against his throat, and I angled my hips so that his thrusts were hitting that same pleasurable spot every time—

Then Edward kissed me, his bottom lip just barely grazing mine.

The contrast between the friction of our bodies and the soft pressure of his mouth made me gasp, and even Edward's cold skin couldn't keep the rush of heat from overtaking me. My legs shook and I could no longer keep up with Edward's rhythm. I just lifted my hips and pushed against him as hard as I could as my muscles contracted, spreading waves of pleasure through my body. My breath left me entirely and my heart beat louder, as if to compensate for the other organ's failure.

My uncontrollable shaking lasted for a few seconds as I finally recovered my breath. Strands of hair were sticking to my forehead, but my body felt boneless, so I didn't attempt to brush the sweaty locks aside. I lay beneath Edward, panting as the rush of my orgasm subsided.

"Ten," Edward said, sounding hoarse. "Spend every day making you look like this."

center /center 

I sighed, reluctant to move from my position curled against Edward. My head fit perfectly in the crook of his arm, and the lush leather sofa was immensely comfortable. Edward heard my sigh and shifted, disentangling his arm from around my shoulders.

"Time to go?" he asked.

I nodded and stood up, trying to remind myself that I was happy for the opportunity to make Charlie dinner. It was harder than I thought it would be, especially since bodily contact with Edward was even more tempting than usual. I wondered if the smell of my blood was changing with all the additional hormones that had undoubtedly been released in the past few days.

I waved good-bye to Alice and Jasper, who were both watching the weather report on T.V. Alice had already scheduled the wedding for the one clear night this month, so I knew she only watched it because she thought the meteorologist's predictions were funny.

Edward picked up his car keys from the kitchen counter and I smiled, thinking about his proposed race.

"What are you thinking?" Edward asked as he led me into the garage.

"Just remembering something," I said, trying to will myself not to blush.

Edward sensed the flow of blood to my cheeks and chuckled as he opened the passenger door for me.

"Can I drive?" I asked abruptly, suddenly inspired to see how well I could handle a sports car. Before I'd been terrified by the prospect of driving faster than 55 mph, but after feeling the rush of riding on a motorcycle, completely freeing myself to the wind and the pavement and the grip of my hands on the handlebars, I realized how much i fun /i it could be. And while I felt a pang for Jacob, I knew that this was something I could share with Edward. Of course, it also helped that there was no real danger in my driving at high velocity with him; his reflexes were so honed that he could easily prevent an accident. Compared to his plan to save me from a jet plummeting to Earth, rescuing me from crashing into a deer in the road would be laughably easy.

Edward smiled, apparently delighted. "Of course," he said, and faster than I could see he opened the driver's door and waited for me to walk over to him.

At first I thought I was going to feel intimidated by his Volvo's sleek dashboard and smooth handling, but I was beginning to understand the temptation to drive so fast. With a car like this, 70 miles an hour was as calm as a stroll through the park.

Not that I'd admit it to him.

"So, do you like it?" he said, grinning and adjusting the rearview mirror for me.

"It's okay," I hedged, pumping the gas pedal. The speedometer inched its way to 75 mph, but it still felt more like 20. Amazing.

"So, I have a question for you," Edward said. "It's about your list."

The feeling of ease quickly vanished and was replaced by something akin to an adrenaline rush that was entirely unrelated to my driving at dangerously high speeds.

Edward smiled, correctly interpreting my reaction. "Not that list. The one you wrote as a child."

"Oh," I said, struggling to remember what I'd written. The list that followed was so much more powerful than the first that it eclipsed it entirely. "What about it?"

"Did you ever finish i Anna Karenina? /i "

I laughed, the tension that had been building in my shoulders easing slightly. "No, I didn't. I tried very hard but I just couldn't get through it. I kept getting the different characters mixed up, or forgetting who said what to whom. It was a New Year's resolution every year for a while until I finally admitted defeat."

"Death by Russian literature," Edward said solemnly.

"How about you? Have you read it?"

"No, actually," Edward replied. "Tolstoy was supposed to be the world's greatest novelist, but I was always afraid I would read it and be disappointed by—Bella, slow down!"

I eased my foot off the gas but I was miffed; I was only going 75, and Edward routinely went over 100.

"Slower!" Edward said, and it was then I realized something was wrong. There was a desperate edge to Edward's voice and his words came out much sharper than usual. His eyes were scanning the road in front of us, as though he was expecting something—

And then a giant wolf leapt into the road directly in front of us.

I didn't have time to react. I didn't even have time to brake.

Edward ripped my seatbelt in half and yanked me from my seat, drawing me toward the passenger's side of the car. I felt his arms reach around me like a cage, and heard a sound like a drain being pulled from a bathtub full of water. A suctioning roar filled my ears and I finally understood: Edward had removed the car door.

The next thing I knew we were flying through the air, but it wasn't in a graceful arc. I felt myself tumbling, jostled from side to side as if I was on a roller coaster. It was then I realized we weren't flying through the air—we were hurtling across the pavement at 75 miles per hour, and the only thing protecting me from becoming road kill was the granite arms locking me in place.

I think I screamed, but the sound of Edward's body hitting the pavement was like a gong inside my head, so loud that I couldn't hear my own voice. I felt rather than simply heard the reverberations, and my body shook with each impact.

After what felt like several terrifying hours, but what must have actually been seconds, we came to a stop. I looked up into Edward's face, too dazed to do much more than blink at him, my mouth open in shock.

He gave me an agonized look before standing up and turning away from me to face the wolf that had run us off the road.

"Paul," Edward said, and his voice was so cold, so lethal, that it reminded me of Edward's fight against Victoria. This time, however, he wasn't facing an unpredictable vampire—he was facing an unpredictable werewolf who had the power to forever banish the Cullens from Forks.

Edward snarled, but it must have been in response to Paul's thoughts because there was no change in Paul's stance. His teeth were bared, the long canines on level with Edward's eyesight. From my position lying sprawled on the ground, Paul looked gargantuan. It was easy to see now why Jacob had thought himself a monster.

"I'll tell her," Edward snapped, and it looked like he was frozen. He hadn't moved an centimeter, his body locked in a protective stance between me and the wolf.

"Leave now, or damn the consequences," Edward said, enunciating every syllable with murderous precision. I hadn't known it was possible for his voice to get so cold.

Paul gave a snap of his jaws and left, disappearing into the trees on the side of the road.

Edward remained still, presumably waiting until he could be sure Paul had truly gone.

"Edward?" I asked, trying to sit up. The world tilted, so I lay back down again.

"You're going into shock," Edward said, instantly lowering himself into a crouch beside me. "I'm taking you straight to Carlisle."

"What did he want?" I asked, trying to remember what I'd just overheard, but it was like water slipping through my hands and sluicing off my skin. Even my vision was watery; Edward's beautiful face was hazy, like an impressionist painter's portrait.

"He had a warning, that's all," Edward said. I didn't feel him lift my body, but my hair was swirling around my face and trees were moving, so I supposed that meant we were on our way back to his house.

"You're so beautiful," I said, closing my eyes. I thought I might even be asleep. "You're like a painting, or a statue, or a tree."

There was silence, and then a huff of breath that might have been a shadow of laughter. "A tree?"

"With roots, and sunlight and green, like your eyes were," I said. I was very sure this made perfect sense. "I love trees," I added, and opened my eyes again so I could see the trees flashing by.

This was a bad idea. The last thing I saw was a blur of mossy green before I blacked out.

center /center 

** b End Part 2 /b **

**Author's Note 1:** This chapter would not be readable if not for my amazing beta, Snuggle Muggle. She is lovely, and I can't thank her enough.

**Author's Note 2: **So college has this way of totally consuming your life. I've been swamped with newspaper deadlines, homework, and the general hullabaloo of campus life. I will try to update once every week or so, with a worst-case scenario of once every 2 weeks. Also, I have to give a huge THANK YOU to those four people who left reviews on previous chapters. You guys are awesome! Reviews make my day. :)


	4. Chapter 4

Light filtered between the blinds, casting stripes over Edward's skin. I thought it looked like a roll of film, black and white and decades old, reeling over the sheets.

I did not want to wake Edward, but my arm was falling asleep tucked under his pillow. I pulled my arm out slowly, watching the black and white lines ripple over my pale skin. The play of shadows made everything appear like it was moving in slow motion.

"Sleep," Edward commanded, his words muffled as he turned his head into the pillow my arm had just vacated. "'S too early."

I giggled, deciding that if Edward was coherent enough to demand a lie-in, he was awake enough to help with breakfast.

The springs creaked as I moved to straddle Edward's sleeping form. The air conditioning cut through the thin cotton of my t-shirt and I shivered, leaning down to press my body against Edward's side.

"Breakfast time," I whispered into his ear. Edward groaned in response and shook his head a little, his unshaven jaw brushing against my cheek. I purposely nuzzled into his neck, loving the way his scratchy whiskers made my skin tingle, the rough hairs like softened sandpaper.

"Edward," I whispered again, my breath ghosting along the underside of his jaw. I glanced up to see his face, and I giggled again. His eyes were squeezed shut and a lock of bronze hair stuck out from behind his ear, giving him a mischievous look that was at odds with the otherwise tranquil face.

"I'll make pancakes," I wheedled, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and squeezing him slightly. His arms flexed in response as he shifted, and I felt the play of muscles beneath his skin.

"I'm not awake, so your pancakes are of no use to me," was Edward's reply. He opened one eye and peered at me, his lips quirking in amusement at what he saw. I felt a blush beginning to stain my cheeks, knowing that the tangles in my long brown hair were putting on a much more amusing show than Edward's tousled locks.

I tucked my face into his chest, wriggling until I was lying sideways facing him, arms still wrapped around his shoulders. Edward pressed a warm kiss to my forehead, and I sighed, flexing my calves as I stretched to give him an answering kiss to his stubbly cheek.

"What about a cold glass of milk?" I asked, my voice barely louder than the rustling of the sheets and the steady rise and fall of Edward's chest. I could hear his heart beating, the steady rhythm threatening to pull me back down into slumber. "And we have blueberries…"

Edward was silent for a moment. "Blueberries?" he said finally, and his voice began to lose the sleepy edge.

"Blueberries," I confirmed, and my lips curved into a smile.

I felt Edward turn his head towards the nightstand. "It _is_ almost nine," he said after consulting the alarm clock.

I sat up, almost sorry I had mentioned the blueberries. I looked into Edward's green eyes and almost blushed again. I knew my face gave everything away—that when I looked at him, my head tilted to the side and my lips parted slightly, my wide brown eyes reflecting the strong lines of Edward's face. I was an open book, and the words flitted across my face, more visible than the shadows.

Edward smiled at me again and reached towards the window, opening the blinds so that sunlight streamed in and all the dark lines disappeared. Edward's bronze hair glinted with hints of gold in the yellow light, and his green eyes were a shade brighter, more jade than emerald. I wondered what insanity had taken hold of me to ever request that we leave our bed.

Edward ran a hand through my hair, cradling the base of my skull with his wide palm. He pulled me forward again and kissed me on the forehead once more, lingering for a few moments. I closed my eyes and breathed in his scent, soap and linen and traces of ink.

"Good morning," Edward murmured against my temple, and pulled away. I watched him get up from the bed, stumbling slightly as he pulled on a t-shirt. I smiled; it was impossible to disagree.

"Daddy! Mommy!" a voice yelled, and the pitter-patter of feet grew louder as our little girl scurried into the room.

Edward bent down and picked her up, swirling her in the air as she laughed. Her brown curls bobbed around her chin, and her smile revealed two missing front teeth.

"Want to help me and Daddy make pancakes?" I asked her. Edward set her down on the bed next to me and she crawled into my lap, still giggling. "They're going to be blueberry," I added, looking up from the top of my little girl's head to smile at Edward. But he wasn't there.

Instead, I was looking into a woman's face—a woman I had never seen before. She had beautiful strawberry-blonde hair and the face of a Greek goddess. But her most striking feature was her honey-brown eyes, which stared at me hungrily. I pulled my daughter close to me, and opened my mouth to scream.

"EDWARD!" The sound of my voice sounded watery in my ears, even though I could feel my vocal cords straining as I forced all the air out of my lungs. My throat burned; I felt like my neck was going to snap. "EDWARD!" I screamed again, and this time I could hear myself more clearly. I screamed a third time, and thought that surely my vocal cords would break or my jaw would come unhinged.

"Bella! Bella, it's all right! I'm right here!" someone answered me. I opened my eyes and saw the same honey-brown eyes from my dream staring back at me.

"Aaaaaaargh!" I screamed again, and tried to move away. I was lying down on something soft, and my arms felt shaky as they tried to find purchase in the cushiony material.

Ice-cold hands gripped my shoulders, rendering me immobile. "Bella, lie still!"

I turned my head to see the source of the voice, and immediately my panic began to subside; it was Edward's warm amber eyes I now stared at, not the frightening woman's from my dream.

"Edward," I said hoarsely, reaching out my trembling arms to hold him. He embraced me, cradling me into his chest, like he had in the dream… only there was no beating heart or warm stubbly skin, just the rise and fall of a marble chest that did not need air.

I closed my eyes, trying to forget the dream I'd had… a dream so vivid, so real, that I felt physically ill realizing it wasn't true. It was like I was now trapped in a nightmare, rather than waking up from one.

I pushed Edward away and was abruptly sick all over the Cullens' living room floor.

The next half hour passed by in a haze. Edward carried me upstairs where Alice unclothed me and set me in a warm bathtub, gently running the warm water over my skin. After a while she pulled me out and wrapped me in a towel, holding me upright at the sink and gently helping me rinse my mouth. She then led me to Edward, who carried me to his room and laid me out across his bed before pulling the comforter over me. I must have fallen asleep, because I woke up a few hours later, still tucked beneath the covers wearing nothing more than a towel.

I glanced out the window and saw that it was dark outside. I sat up and groaned, pushing my damp hair away from my forehead. I had a terrible headache.

Edward must have heard me because moments later there was a knock on the door and he appeared, holding a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin.

"How do you feel?" he asked, crossing the room and sitting next to me on the bed before I could form my reply.

I took the glass and two aspirin from him silently, swallowing awkwardly. My throat felt sore, and the water was like a balm, its coolness bringing instant relief. I gulped down the rest of the water quickly, glad for the momentary excuse not to meet his gaze.

I set the empty glass down on the nightstand and shook my head when Edward asked if I wanted more. I felt confused and disoriented as the day's events caught up with me. Why had I reacted so badly to the dream? Was it just the shock of the accident? Or was there something else at play here—was the dream somehow connected to Paul? Surely the timing wasn't coincidence. Could the woman in my dream be another female werewolf, one I hadn't met?

"Bella, please talk to me," Edward pleaded, and I finally looked up, my arms clutching the towel more closely to my chest. Edward was worried, his eyebrows knit together in concern as he studied me carefully.

"I… I had a bad dream," I said finally, though this wasn't strictly true. It was a i _wonderful_ /i dream—it was realizing it wasn't real that was bad. I felt so guilty about this that my cheeks burned in shame.

"I heard some of it," Edward said, and his voice, while still worried, had a more cautious edge to it.

I closed my eyes, and was shocked to realize I was blinking back tears. But why was I crying? The girl from the dream wasn't my daughter. I would never have a daughter… and Edward would never wake up next to me, and he would never kiss me with warm lips, or gaze at me with green eyes.

"I'm sorry," Edward said, reaching out to hold me. I let his cool arms surround me, and his chilly body was a comfort for my overheated skin. I let a few tears escape before I pulled myself together. I was completely bewildered—where was this sadness coming from? I had never even thought of having children before, and the only man I had ever wanted was sitting here next to me.

i _That's not completely true,_ /i a small voice said, reminding me of the future I could have had with Jacob—a future I had glimpsed, for a few seconds, before I shut the door on that future forever.

But as soon as I thought it, all the reasons why I had shut the door came rushing back, clearing my head completely for the first time since the accident that afternoon. I took a deep breath and looked Edward in the eye.

"There's nothing to be sorry for," I said, hoping I looked convincing despite my red eyes and tear-stained cheeks. My voice was level at least, the soreness and the headache nearly gone now.

"Bella… are you absolutely i _sure_ /i ?" Edward asked. He looked at me solemnly, with the full force of his hundred years turning his gaze oddly hollow. He held even more unnaturally still than usual, as if bracing himself for my answer.

I didn't know what to say; just as suddenly as the remnants of the dream had overwhelmed me, I was wholly myself again, sure in my decision, wanting nothing more than to be with Edward for eternity. As I gazed at him, I felt nothing but love and security and an awareness of his body that was more than just sexual—it was gravity, and I was inexorably pulled along in his wake.

In answer, I sat up fully, and my damp hair clung in wet curls to the skin of my back as I pulled back the blankets. The white towel was oversized and only my shoulders and my calves were exposed. I held his gaze as I reached for his palms. He let me take his hands and guide them by his wrists to my shoulders, where a bead of water left a wet trail down my collarbone to where it disappeared beneath my towel.

"I want to show you how sure I am," I said softly, and a confidence I had not had before—a confidence born, perhaps, of my near-death experience and paralyzing moment of doubt—allowed me to meet his gaze as I let go of his wrists and unwrapped the towel.

The pressure from Edward's grip on my shoulders increased. His eyes widened, though they did not look away from mine as I lay back down against the pillows, completely exposed.

Edward had stopped breathing, whereas my breath was coming faster than ever. I was aware of the way my breasts rose and fell as I looked up at Edward, who still hadn't shifted his gaze from my eyes.

"I couldn't do this if I wasn't sure," I whispered. I reached with my right hand to grasp his left, and led his cold hand down the same trail as the water droplet. His eyes burned into mine as I guided his hand over my breast, stopping so that his palm covered it entirely. I felt my nipple harden instantly at his touch, and my heart beat wildly against his fingertips.

"I love you," I murmured, still holding his gaze. "Nothing is more important to me than being with you forever, Edward. Nothing."

"Bella…" he said, and he closed his eyes.

"I want you to touch me," I said, whispering so softly that I could barely hear the words over my racing heartbeat. I knew he could hear the words clearly, though, along with the thrumming of my blood rushing to the surface of my skin.

He opened his eyes and parted his lips, and the look on his face sent a chill through me that had nothing to do with his cool skin. I shivered as he finally turned his gaze to the rest of me, and in that moment I lay at the mercy of this dangerous creature. I wanted him to own me, to see me and claim me and leave me trembling beneath him, helpless at his touch and wanting nothing more than to remain helpless, offering my self for him to take.

The chilly pads of his fingertips circled my nipple before he left the curves of my breast in favor of my stomach, which grew slightly rounder around my hips. His fingers and eyes trailed over my skin, leaving goose bumps in their wake.

I had not felt so delicate since that day in the meadow when Edward had demonstrated his strength to me for the first time. But, unlike then, the awareness of my fragility excited me; I felt reckless knowing the only thing separating my body from Edward's was his self-control. If for one second the temptation was too much to resist, he could take me, and I would not—could not—offer any resistance.

His hand had paused at the curve of my hip, and I gave an impatient moan. Edward bit his lower lip and flicked his eyes towards me once before he traced his fingertip down to my most intimate opening. I bucked involuntarily at the cold; it was like an ice cube against my skin, only without the relief of the ice melting.

Edward pulled away and looked at me again before raising his hand to my mouth. He was hovering over me, bracing himself with his left arm and using his right to brush his index finger against my lower lip. Finally, I understood.

I opened my mouth and took his finger in, sucking the smooth skin and laving my tongue against it. This time Edward bucked involuntarily, his hips settling against mine, the pressure from his erection more pronounced than ever against my naked skin.

Edward's finger in my mouth was a pleasant pressure, smooth like marble and slightly sweet. I curled my tongue around him while lifting my hips, pushing as firmly as I could against him.

After a few moments Edward pulled his hand away from my mouth and, his eyes locked on mine, ran his warmed finger along my skin until he pushed inside me.

My muscles went completely still but my heart beat faster than ever, my breath leaving my lungs in shallow pants as I registered the fullness inside me. His finger pushed farther inside, and this time my muscles contracted, clenching around him.

Edward slowly pulled his finger out half-way, then pushed inside again. The sense of fullness became more pronounced as my muscles clenched tighter, restricting his finger from entering me all the way. "You're so i _warm_ /i ," he whispered, then half-laughed at his words. "I—I've never felt anything like this."

"What does it feel like?" I asked him, closing my eyes. I felt my eyelashes against my cheeks, my damp hair clinging in strands to my neck, and my heels digging into the cotton sheets. I was on sensory overload, and I found it impossible to imagine what it must be like for him when his senses were so much more acute than mine.

"It's—warm, and so soft," he said, continuing to thrust his finger in and out . "I have experienced men's thoughts of this, but it doesn't i _begin_ /i to compare."

Despite the overwhelming fullness I felt, I could tell that he wasn't pushing farther than an inch or so inside me. If it was this tight with just one finger, how could it possibly work on our wedding night? I had never seen Edward naked before, but I could feel his erection against my thigh, and I knew with certainty that it was at least three times the width of his finger, and much longer.

"Is—is it supposed to be this tight?" I asked, wondering if there was something wrong with me. Maybe I should start using tampons.

Edward immediately stopped. "Am I hurting you?"

"No! No, it feels… it feels amazing," I said, and he smiled at me and resumed his gentle pace.

"I have never been so attracted to anyone in my entire life as I am to you in this moment," Edward said, bending down to place a kiss at the dip where my stomach and hip bone met. "And if it's this exciting with just one finger…" Edward broke off and gave a short laugh. "I may suffer from—what did you call it? Spontaneous combustion."

I meant to laugh, but his finger had brushed against something inside me that turned my breathless giggle into a gasp.

"Edward—" I moaned helplessly, curling my hands into fists. "Please, don't stop—"

But he didn't need me to tell him not to change the angle of his thrusts; he could hear my pulse quicken, the blood flowing more rapidly through my vagina, the sharper intake of my breath. He sensed my response to his touch and he moved accordingly, quickening his pace to match my rocketing demand for i _more, harder, now._ /i

"Edward, I'm going to—" but I was already climaxing before I could complete the sentence. I buried my face in the pillow, shaking as the blinding force of my orgasm subsided.

Edward pulled his hand away after a few more gentle thrusts, and I turned to face him, my flushed skin making me shiver as the heat quickly left my overheated body.

For the first time that night Edward kissed me, and I responded drunkenly, opening my mouth and sliding my lips across his marble-smooth ones.

He drew back, and I realized I had probably pushed him to the limits of his ability to resist my blood; I was naked and all my blood had rushed to the capillaries at the surface of my skin, making me an even more appetizing meal than usual.

"Sorry," he whispered, and kissed me on my forehead instead. His lips lingered, hard and cold and utterly perfect.

"It's my fault for being so tasty," I murmured, and reached up to run my hands through his hair.

"No, it's not that," he said, laying down beside me and drawing the blankets over both of us. "I just didn't want you to cut your tongue against my teeth."

I smiled. "I can't wait to have my first French kiss."

Edward smiled back, and I knew he understood my meaning perfectly.

He lifted me up to pull the damp towel out from underneath me, tossing it on the floor beside the bed. He then lowered me onto the dry cotton sheets and I felt warmer instantly, especially since Edward had arranged the comforter so that it wrapped around me like a cocoon.

"You are so beautiful," Edward said after a few still moments, and though I was no longer exposed, I began to feel the first pangs of embarrassment. My body wasn't perfect—my skin was too pale and my muscles nonexistent—but when Edward looked at me, I could believe that he was telling the truth.

"I want to see you," I whispered, curling into him and running a hand down his back. "I want to make you feel this way, too."

"You will," he said, tracing his fingertips in circular patterns across my collarbone. "But it'll have to wait until the wedding if you want to wear white with any sincerity. I'm positive the boundaries of my self-control don't extend quite that far."

My skin tingled as he continued to run his fingers along my shoulders and neck, and I sighed, wishing he wasn't right.

"You should sleep," Edward said, and pulled his hand away. I frowned at him and he laughed, and compromised by turning me onto my side so that my back was to his chest. He reached his arm around my side so that he held me close, the blankets he'd wrapped around me protecting me from the chill that emanated from his skin. "If you don't sleep Carlisle will blame me for your failure to make a complete recovery," Edward warned. "I might not be able to use this unorthodox treatment again."

His words made me jump; I had completely forgotten the reason I was laying naked in Edward's bed in the first place.

"Edward," I began, steeling myself for the worst. "What did Paul want today?"

Edward's arm tightened and he was suddenly rigid. I regretted ruining the afterglow so thoroughly, but I had to know.

"It was only a warning," Edward said finally.

"If it was only a warning, why have you turned into a statue?"

He sighed, and I felt him shift, loosening his hold on me and reverting to his relaxed pose. "This better?"

"No," I said flatly. I tried to turn to face him, but his arm stilled me. The strength I found so arousing ten minutes ago was now annoying. "Edward," I growled, and I felt my heart rate pick up again. I suddenly felt ridiculous for being naked and angry at the same time when the symptoms of my anger were so similar to other sorts of passion.

"It really i was /i a warning," Edward said, and his voice sounded tired. "Sam found out about our engagement, and he was going to give us a final warning about the terms of the treaty. Paul acted a little preemptively, without Sam's permission."

"How did Sam find out? Charlie hasn't told Billy," I said, but right after the words left my mouth I realized what had happened. Jessica and Lauren must have spread the word to La Push more quickly than I'd thought possible—it had only been four days since Alice, Rosalie and I had seen them at the spa.

"About that…" Edward hesitated, then sighed and continued in a stiff voice, "I told Jacob about the wedding."

I didn't breathe for a moment as I waited for his words to make sense. When they finally did I turned around to face him, and this time Edward did not attempt to hold me still. "You did i _what?_ /i "

"I invited Jacob to the wedding. It wasn't to gloat, Bella; I just thought he had the right to be there if that's what he wanted."

I wracked my brain for a response, and all that came to mind was "Why?"

"Because I knew you wouldn't ask him, even though you still think of him as your best friend."

"You didn't have the right!" I said, and I wished I was wearing clothes; being naked while arguing with Edward made me even more flustered than I would have been otherwise. Too bad my nakedness didn't seem to be having the same effect on him. Damn his self-control.

"Bella, are you mad at me because I sent Jacob an invitation, or are you just worried about what his answer will be?" Edward asked, looking intently into my eyes. "If you're mad at me for sending the invitation, then I apologize. I thought that you would want him there, and I wanted him to have the choice. But if you're just upset about what his decision might be, then I have to say that I think your anger is misplaced."

I glared at him, even though I knew he was right.

"He'll come, Bella," he said, reading my expression correctly. "He loves you, and while he might be hurt right now, in the long run he'll want you to see you happy."

"How do you know?" I asked in a tiny voice. I sounded pitiful. I turned my face into Edward's chest, hiding from myself and from the guilt I felt creeping up inside me.

"Because I would come," Edward said finally, and his answer made me feel even worse.

"Bells!" Charlie said, stepping inside the Cullens' house and giving me a one-armed hug. I hugged him back and looked over his shoulder to where the police cruiser was parked in the driveway. At least the lights weren't flashing or the sirens blaring. Edward told me he called Charlie last night to tell him about the accident and that I was being looked after by Carlisle, but I didn't yet trust Charlie not to jump to conclusions where Edward was concerned.

Charlie was a little disoriented as he followed me into the spacious living room where Carlisle and Esme sat on the sofa. The hardwood floors reflected the sunlight streaming in through the windows, and I flushed as I remembered what I'd done to their plush white carpeting.

"Thank you for coming, Chief Swan," Carlisle said, standing up and extending his hand for Charlie to shake.

"Not at all," Charlie said, gripping Carlisle's hand before letting it drop. "And please, call me Charlie."

Carlisle smiled at him and gestured to Esme. "I don't believe I've had the pleasure of introducing you to my wife. Charlie, this is Esme."

Esme also stood up and shook Charlie's hand. "I've heard so much about you from Bella," she said, smiling warmly.

Charlie looked a little surprised, though much more at ease. "I'm sorry to meet you folks under these circumstances," Charlie said, sitting down next to me on the loveseat. Edward sat perched on the armchair next to the fireplace, looking serious. "I went to the scene of the accident last night and I'm sorry to say there's no chance that your car can be repaired. The biggest bit left is the passenger-side door, which we found about fifty feet away from the crash site."

The blood drained away from my face as I remembered Edward kicking out the door and flinging us both onto the pavement. Edward and Esme both threw me a worried glance; my heartbeat must have given me away.

Carlisle, however, was nodding while regarding Charlie with sober eyes. "The important thing is, of course, that Edward and Bella managed to survive relatively unscathed," he said.

"Well sure, but I don't understand i _how_ /i " Charlie said, sounding at once more like the town's chief investigator. "I understand Edward was driving a Volvo, a car famous for its safety ratings. Judging by the amount of debris involved in the accident, the car would have to have been traveling over 70 miles per hour." Charlie glanced at Edward, and I could clearly make out an accusing edge filtering through the cool detective persona.

"I was driving slightly above the speed limit," Edward said, inclining his head. "I will, of course, pay for any road damage and clean-up services incurred, as well as a speeding ticket."

"No!" I said. Edward shook his head, but Charlie's attention was now focused on me so he missed Edward's pained expression. "Dad, i I /i was driving Edward's car. He told me to slow down, and I just… sort of lost control."

Charlie looked shocked. " i You /i were speeding?" he said incredulously. "Bella, I thought you learned your lesson about driving recklessly! Look what happened to Jake on that damn motorcycle! And Edward," Charlie said, turning to look at him with an equally incredulous stare. "You should know better than to let her drive your car! She's never driven a fancy sports car before! And i _why didn't you take better care of her?!_" /i

"Dad! Edward doesn't i _let_ /i me do anything," I started, but Carlisle cut me off.

"Charlie, you're absolutely right. Edward, your mother and I are very disappointed in you for your reckless behavior."

"I cannot apologize enough for putting Bella in danger," Edward said, bowing his head slightly. He looked like the picture of a remorseful son who had seen the error in his ways. I wanted to gag.

"It's i _not _/i Edward's fault!" I said, and this time Charlie interrupted me, his brown eyes narrowed in anger.

"I agree," he said. "Bella, I'm going to have to suspend your driver's license for this."

I wanted to protest, but what could I say? Dad, it wasn't my fault, a werewolf jumped in the road and the only reason I'm not in as many pieces as the Volvo is thanks to Edward's super-hero strength?

"Thank goodness both of you are alive," Esme interjected suddenly, and turned her face into Carlisle's shoulder, where she appeared to be crying softly. Charlie immediately looked ashamed of himself for losing his temper; he awkwardly put an arm around my shoulder and squeezed me.

"I just—Bells, I don't know what I'd do without you," he mumbled awkwardly.

All my anger vanished as I patted his arm. I didn't know what to say. At that moment I hated myself for what I was planning to do to him.

"Everything will be okay, darling," Carlisle said, helping Esme to her feet and leading her to the kitchen. "It's been a rough couple of hours. Let's make some coffee for Charlie and Bella and we can all relax."

A few minutes later Charlie was sipping his steaming-hot coffee (no sugar, no cream), and looking much calmer. I held my cup (lots of cream and even more sugar) between my hands, taking comfort in the heat spreading through my fingertips.

"I won't fine you for speeding since you weren't operating the car," Charlie said to Edward after he'd finished his coffee and stood up to leave. "But I'm afraid I'll still have to suspend your license, Bella." Charlie did not look at all unhappy about this, and neither did Edward. I scowled at both of them.

"Call me when you want to come home so I can pick you up," Charlie said, and called goodbye to Carlisle and Esme before heading out the door. He nodded curtly at Edward—apparently, Edward was still not forgiven for allowing me to put myself in danger. I rolled my eyes as the police cruiser disappeared down the bend of the Cullens' driveway.

"Don't worry," Edward said, kissing me on my temple. "I was planning on flying to our honeymoon anyway. Charlie won't have to drive us anywhere… except maybe the airport." Edward chuckled at his joke.

I cringed at the thought of my i father /i driving us after our wedding night—and in the police cruiser. Ugh.

"Wait a second," I said, going over Edward's words in my head. "What do you mean 'our honeymoon'?"

"I thought you'd want to go somewhere private where we could be together," Edward said, twirling a lock of my hair with his fingers.

I considered this, and decided it probably wasn't worth the fight. At least we'd be doing something i I'd /i stipulated.

"You might want to call Renee," Edward said, dropping his hand and his flippant tone. "Charlie wasn't going to tell you until later, but he called her about the accident."

"Oh no," I groaned. "How upset is she?"

Edward's silence was answer enough. I really, i _really_ /i hated Paul right then

"I would offer to call her for you, but I'm fairly certain that would only make things worse," Edward said finally.

I sighed and held out my hand for the phone.

There was only one week left until the wedding, so naturally Alice had decided this would be the perfect time to let the shoe drop.

"You're the bride," Alice said incredulously. "You're i _supposed_ /i to be the center of attention. What, you think all these people would show up to see Edward? i _Please,_ /i " she finished, rolling her eyes.

"Thanks, sis," Edward said dryly.

"What do you mean, 'all these people'?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

"Well, it turns out we have one more guest than we thought," Alice chirped. "You'll meet her later—she's out hunting with Rosalie right now."

"Just one?" I said, still looking suspiciously at Alice's wide, innocent eyes.

"Yes," she said, then sighed impatiently. "Now come on, Bella, and try on the dress!"

I sighed, thinking of the dress upstairs and reluctantly admitting to myself that it really i _was_ /i perfect, and that I had Alice and her impeccable taste to blame for all this madness. "All right, all right, I'll go try it on." I turned to Edward, giving him a suspicious look. "And don't try to listen in or see anything, got it?"

Edward smiled impishly. "I won't," he promised. When I continued to look at him skeptically, he kissed my forehead, then said, "I know it's supposed to be bad luck if I see the dress before the big day, and you've already got enough bad luck without me acting as a saboteur. I'll stay away."

I tried to scowl at him, but finally gave a reluctant giggle as he continued to grin at me. Besides, as much as I hated to admit it, he really had a point about the bad luck. It'd be a miracle if I didn't end up embarrassing myself horribly, like tripping over Charlie as he walked me down the aisle.

"See you later," I said to Edward, suddenly anxious to go upstairs and try on the dress; I desperately needed to practice walking in heels.

"This should be the only fitting," Alice said as we made our way up the stairs. "I don't think I'll need to make any changes, but I just wanted to be sure…"

We went upstairs to Alice's room and there, sitting on the bed, was Renee.

"Mom!" I cried, launching myself through the air and throwing my arms around her. "Mom, you're here early!"

"Surprise!" she said, hugging me back. I was so happy to see her, and so shocked, that I started to cry.

"Oh, honey, I've missed you so much," Renee said in a small voice, and I realized she was crying, too. "I'm so happy to be here for you," she whispered in a smaller voice still, and I pulled back to blow my nose on a tissue Alice handed me.

"This means so much to me, Mom," I said after I'd gained some control over my dripping nose. "I know you don't approve, but I'm just—I'm just so glad you're here."

Renee gave me a watery smile. "I'm happy for you, sweetie. I—I know I've made mistakes in life, but that doesn't mean you'll make the same ones." She laughed and dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. "You were always the responsible one… and I trust your judgment."

I hugged her again. "You're not just saying this because of the car accident, are you?" I asked, only half-joking.

Renee stroked my hair and sighed. "No, but I won't pretend that hasn't had something to do with it. It made me realize how short life is. If you're happy, then I'm happy. I just want you to make the most of the time you have here on earth."

I smiled even as my heart twisted in my chest at the irony in her words.

"So, are you ready to see Bella in her wedding dress?" Alice asked, pointing to the closet. I turned and saw the dress, marveling again at Alice's perfect taste. It was something right out of the early twentieth century, but with a slight modern flair. I loved it, and knew that Edward would, too.

Alice and Renee helped me put the gown on and I looked at myself in the mirror, hardly believing it was me in the reflection.

a href"http://s228. gown /a cinched in satin folds at my waist, and the short sleeves grew into a lacy neckline that managed to give me a modest amount of cleavage (and that I had any cleavage at all was in itself a miracle). The lacy skirt hugged my hips, then filled out around my thighs, finally forming the lace train in the back.

"You look perfect," Alice said.

"Absolutely stunning," Renee said, her hushed voice echoing Alice's sentiment.

"How did you want to do your hair, Bella?" Alice asked, walking around and inspecting the dress at all angles.

"Oh. I hadn't really thought about it," I said, still gazing in the mirror. It was hard to believe anyone would bother noticing my hair when I was wearing such an exquisite dress.

"It'd be a shame to wear it up, honey," Renee said, joining Alice in her inspection of my dress.

"I think loose curls would be lovely," Alice offered.

"That sounds nice," I replied, thinking that wearing it long and loose would be less hassle than an updo.

"Great. I'll call Maximilian—oops, I mean Max," Alice said, giggling. "I'll tell him to come early Saturday morning. I'll do your makeup, so we won't need to call a makeup artist." Alice suddenly looked unsure of herself. "Unless you'd like a professional makeup artist, Bella?"

"You're better than any professional." I smiled at her, and she grinned back.

"Excellent! Now for the shoes."

"Right," I said, wondering how I was going to manage walking in the three-inch heels Alice had undoubtedly picked out.

But to my surprise she pulled out a pair of white satin ballet flats.

"You'll wear these during the ceremony," Alice said, placing them gently on the bed. "And for the reception you can wear these."

She pulled a pair of white strappy heels from the closet.

"I thought it would be best to give you flat heels for your walk down the aisle," Alice explained.

Renee laughed. "You really thought of everything!"

I grinned. "Well, I guess I'll just have to practice dancing then."

"I can help you with that," Alice volunteered.

"What kind of band have you hired?" Renee asked.

I smiled, happily immersing myself in the wedding plans as I took off the wedding gown. Once I was back in my customary t-shirt and jeans I sat next to my mom and leaned against her shoulder, finally feeling like a bride-to-be, and happy that I hadn't insisted on the drive-through wedding in Vegas.

Edward and I made love on the beach, the waves foaming around my legs as we moved with each other and against each other, keeping a steady rhythm with the waves. Afterwards, I licked along Edward's neck, my tongue heavy with the taste of salt.

"I love you," I said, smiling up at Edward. His chest and shoulders blocked out the sun, but when he smiled back at me I could see his white teeth, flashing in the late afternoon light.

"I love you more," Edward said, still smiling. He rolled to my side and lay in the sand, and now I could see his eyes, a bright blue-green, more vibrant than the ocean or the sky.

"I don't think that's possible," I decided, and placed my arm across his chest. His skin was already turning golden-brown, whereas my arms were slightly pink despite the layer of sunblock Edward had smoothed over me earlier.

"Oh, it's possible," Edward said, and suddenly jumped up and ran into the waves.

"How do I love thee?" Edward shouted, raising his arms over his head as he turned to face me, the waves crashing against the small of his back. "Let me count the ways!"

I sat propped up on the beach, laughing at his absurdity. I dug my toes into the wet sand and watched as, naked, Edward splashed around in the waist-high water, hollering at the top of his lungs.

"I love thee to the depth, and breadth, and height my soul can reach!" Edward cried, waving his arms around as he looked up to the sky.

I stopped laughing when he got to the final stanza of the poem. He waded towards me and settled down beside me again, water dripping steadily from a curl of bronze hair.

"I love thee with the breath, smiles, tears, of all my life," he recited, and reached out with a warm hand to cup my cheek. I felt grains of sand shift against my skin as he swept his thumb across my cheekbone.

"And, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death," he finished, and punctuated the final line with a searing kiss.

I kissed him back, and felt his sun-warmed skin and wind-chapped lips move against mine. My breasts stuck to his chest, both of us sticky with salt water, and I wondered how so much sun-soaked happiness could be possible. The air in my lungs and my heart bursting in my chest were almost more than I could bear.

I rolled us over so that I was on top, and began kissing him in earnest.

"Ow!" he said and sat up gingerly, reaching with one hand behind him to grab a piece of sea glass that had been digging into his back.

"Oh," I said, taking the green glass from his hand. "It's so beautiful." I kissed his wet curly hair and smiled. "Almost as beautiful as your eyes."

"My eyes aren't beautiful," Edward said, giving me my favorite half-smile. "They're manly. i _Your_ /i eyes are beautiful."

I rolled my eyes. "They're just brown."

"They are not," Edward said, sounding offended. "They're rich, and warmer than the sand or the sun."

I looked at the sea glass again, but this time, instead of being a beautiful bottle-green, it had turned into a regular mirror. I stared at it in confusion, then held it up to get a better look.

In the glass was my reflection, only my eyes were no longer brown—they were blood red.

I dropped the glass and screamed, cutting my hand in the process. I looked for Edward but he was no longer there; instead, the woman sat next to me, her unearthly face terrible in the bright sunshine.

"You will never have this," she said, and her voice was like wood smoke. "You are giving this up forever."

I screamed again and tried to back away, but the ground sunk around me like quicksand.

"EDWARD!" I screamed as the sand pressed around me, trapping me in the woman's terrible gaze.

"You must reconsider," the woman said again, and now it was her figure that blocked out the sun, throwing her face into shadow. "You will never hear the heart of a dead man, and a dead man has no soul to love you. You are not throwing your life away—you are throwing i _life_ /i away. You must not be bitten."

"EDWARD! HELP ME!" I screamed again, my mouth filling with sand as I sank deeper into the ground, until finally I could see nothing but darkness.

center /center

"Bella! Bella, I'm here!"

I wondered if there was sand stuck in my ears, because the voice sounded so far away.

"Bella!"

Finally I opened my eyes, and I panicked: there was nothing around me but darkness. I groped around, trying to fight my way out of the sand, and felt a cold rock in my way.

"Rocks?" I mumbled, confused. I thought I was trapped in sand.

"Bella? Bella, can you hear me?"

"Edward?" A lamp flicked on and threw my bedroom into startling relief.

"Oh, Edward," I said, hurling myself into his arms. "I'm so glad you're here…"

But Edward returned my embrace guardedly, leaning slightly away from my body.

"Edward, what's wrong?" I asked, suddenly terrified that I was still trapped in the nightmare.

Edward looked at me, then down at his shirt.

Streaked across his white shirt in bright red swaths was blood, and I let out a soft cry as the rust and salt smell hit me.

I glanced down at my palm and there was a jagged cut, right where I had been holding the glass


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:** This was written before _Breaking Dawn_ and with the help and input from my friend, Snuggle Muggle. To all the reviewers who have waited very, _very_ patiently for this chapter, I want to say thank you. Thank you so, so much for all the encouragement. You're the reason why I continue to write :)

**Chapter 5**

In the nights that followed I woke up gasping for breath, my chest heaving painfully as my heart raced. I jumped out of bed and threw the window open, welcoming the cool breeze. The air was thick with moisture, and soon a light mist mingled with the beads of sweat on my forehead. But as quickly as I calmed down, Edward standing worriedly by my side, I found that all I could remember of the dreams were disjointed pictures, traces of colors and shapes that made no sense to my waking mind.

*

Edward parked Alice's yellow Porsche in the driveway beside a small car I'd never seen before.

"Your hairstylist just arrived," Edward said. "Alice has him waiting upstairs. He couldn't believe I was going to pick you up the day of the wedding." Edward smiled. "He mentioned something about bad luck."

"Did you explain to him we've already had plenty of that?" I said, thinking about Edward's formerly perfect Volvo now sitting in pieces at a scrap heap.

Edward leaned over to unbuckle my seatbelt for me, not wanting me to upset the bandage Carlisle had put over my palm. I rolled my eyes but made no protest as Edward disappeared from the driver's seat to open my door.

Edward caught me rolling my eyes and gave me an unapologetic grin, taking my bandaged hand in his and giving it a small kiss as we walked towards his house.

He stopped in the doorway, turning to face me with a curious expression on his face.

"The next time I see you, you'll be walking down the aisle."

"That's the general idea, yes," I said. I watched him watching me and felt a pleasurable surge of self-awareness. I rocked forward to press myself against him, and standing on tip-toe gave him one last kiss as a single woman.

"Can't wait," Edward murmured, and opened the door for me. I hadn't even begun to register the sheer volume of flowers that were inside the Cullens' house before I was promptly ambushed by a miniature porcelain doll in a frilly dress.

"You're here, _finally!"_ Alice trilled, grabbing my hands and tugging me away from Edward. "Max is upstairs waiting for you! Come on!"

I cast one last glance over my shoulder to where Edward was standing, framed in the doorway. He gave me a small smile before he turned and disappeared.

"Don't worry, he has his own getting ready to do," Alice said, correctly interpreting my silence. "Emmett and Jasper will be with him."

Privately I thought Edward would look like a groom out of one of those bridal magazines no matter if he spent five seconds or five hours getting ready, but I didn't argue with Alice; she had the power to make my last hours as a single woman very, very painful. I thought of the millions of make-up brushes she was sure to have on hand and winced.

"Bella! Darling, how exciting it is to see you!" Max said, jumping up from Alice's vanity as soon as we entered the room. "And I must say, how exciting it is to see such a hunk of a man!"

"He was spying through the window," Rosalie explained, stepping out of Alice's walk-in closet in a stunning navy-blue sheath dress. "I almost had Jasper come in just to calm him down."

"Oh honey, you know how it is with gorgeous men… you can't help but appreciate them!" Max said, completely unaware of Rosalie's implication. He gave me a hug and pulled me away from Alice's side, then sat me down in the chair in front of Alice's ornate gilt mirror. "Now, I believe you wanted something simple… how about keeping all your hair down but in long, loose curls?"

"That sounds perfect," I said, though I couldn't stop myself from throwing a nervous glance at the curling iron.

"Don't worry, it's nothing elaborate," Max said, sweeping my hair up in one swift motion. "Do you have a veil? I can pin it in place for you."

"Yep, and we have these pins," Alice said, popping up suddenly behind me. In her hands she held a dark red velvet box. "Here, Bella. This is for you."

Wordlessly I took the box and opened it; inside were at least a dozen silver pins, each containing what looked suspiciously like a diamond on the end.

"They're beautiful," I breathed, admiring their simple elegance. "But I can't—"

"No 'buts' on your wedding day!" Alice said firmly. "Besides, it's really a present for me too… I'll definitely ask to borrow them when I get married."

"You're getting married too?" Max said interestedly as he took the first section of my hair and wrapped it around the curling iron.

"Oh, some day," Alice said, smiling sweetly. "He won't know what hit him."

"Well, I can't wait to see the groom's face when he gets a load of you," Max said with a happy sigh. "What a gorgeous couple you two make… just imagine what your kids will look like, with genes like yours!"

"Oh… we haven't really thought about kids," I said, trying hard not to think about my all-too-real dream.

A knock at the door saved me from this awkward line of conversation. Two stunningly beautiful women walked in, neither of whom I'd seen before. But judging from their pale skin and unearthly good looks, I knew immediately they must be the vampires from the coven in Denali.

"I just wanted to stop by and give you these," the tall brunette said, placing a vase full of white roses on a side table. "You must be Bella," she said, walking over to me. "I'm Kate."

"Hi, Kate," I said, smiling up at her reflection in the mirror. "I've heard so much about you."

"Oh, aren't you sweet," Kate said, showing her perfect white teeth as she smiled. The way she spoke was more than a little bit patronizing, but I guess I must seem awfully young to her—she was probably over a century old, I reminded myself.

"Who's your friend?" I asked, my eyes glancing over to the other woman's reflection. She had long, dark hair and lips that seemed to form a perfect pink heart on her otherwise pale face.

"This is Akiko," Kate said. "She's new to the coven, and we wanted her to meet all our friends."

Akiko bowed her head, causing her curtain of dark hair to fall forward. "I am very pleased to meet you, Bella Swan," Akiko said. Her voice was light and airy, but I knew better than to think of her as delicate.

"I'm so glad you could come," I said, noting with relief that both of them had light amber-colored eyes. "You both look incredible."

This was something of an understatement, as Kate was wearing a glittering gold dress that played up her wavy brown hair. Akiko, who was a full head shorter than Kate but still a few inches taller than me, was wearing what looked like a cross between a kimono and a dress; it was silk, and pictured oriental water-lilies floating down stream.

"Oh, thanks," Kate said, looking down as if she had forgotten what she was wearing. "But I don't think any of us will compare to you."

"That's right," Max chimed in. "Her hair is made for curls. You are going to be gorgeous, honey!"

"She already is gorgeous," Alice said, prancing around happily.

"We won't keep you any longer," Kate said, waving goodbye as she and Akiko turned towards the door. "See you at the wedding!"

As the door closed behind her I let out a sigh of relief; all these people and preparation was beginning to feel a bit overwhelming.

"Are you all right?" Alice said, watching my reflection in the mirror take deep, calming breaths. "Do you want me to get Jasper?"

"Oh, no," I said, thinking about how worried Edward would be if Jasper had to be called over to calm my nerves. "I'll be okay… it's just the jitters."

"You are lovely, Bella," Rosalie said. I was so surprised that I forgot my sudden bout of nervousness. She stood beside Max as he let loose another curl, brushing aside a wayward strand. "This is going to be a truly wonderful wedding… and I've been to many."

I smiled my thanks to her as Max declared my coiffure done and Alice whirled my chair around to face her.

"Now, close your eyes Bella," Alice said, grabbing a long black tube out of her makeup bag.

I leaned back in the chair and closed my eyes, reminding myself that in a few hours, Edward and I would be on our honeymoon.

*

Carlisle said, "You may kiss the bride," and, for a moment, Edward's eyes looked as if they had filled with moisture—which, of course, was impossible, as vampires are unable to cry. Abruptly, I realized that it wasn't his eyes filling with tears—it was mine. I wanted to laugh at myself for being so absurd, and I blinked the tears back quickly, but Edward had already noticed.

Edward's eyes crinkled as his lips quirked into my favorite crooked smile, and he lifted a fingertip to gather the moisture that clung to my eyelashes. His expression shifted, becoming almost reverent as he bent down to kiss me. Edward's cool lips found mind and he kissed me gently, cradling my face between his marble hands. It didn't leave me breathless like his kisses usually did—rather, I felt a rush of contentment, as if time had relinquished its hold on me and left me calm and tranquil in the respite. I felt my lips curve into a smile, and I pulled back slightly so I could open my eyes and capture this moment forever in my memory. I hoped that _this_ would be my strongest human memory—that the image of Edward's face as he kissed me would overshadow the pain of the coming transformation.

It wasn't until after we broke apart that Edward's attention suddenly shifted. His head snapped back towards the house, his eyes open in shock. Puzzled, I turned to follow his gaze.

It took me a moment to see what had Edward stunned, and I gasped as Jacob's six-foot seven-inch frame filled my line of sight. My mouth was still in the process of falling open in recognition when Jacob's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he lurched forward, unconscious.

"Jacob!" I cried, dashing to kneel beside his prone figure, not caring that my wedding dress was in the process of acquiring knee-shaped grass stains.

The guests had jumped up in their seats, craning their necks to see what had happened. I could just make out Alice's voice from the murmurings of the crowd.

"He _crashed_ my wedding!" Alice howled, her tiny fists balled at the sides of her taffeta bridesmaid dress. It was almost disturbing that someone so dainty could look so murderous.

"_Your_ wedding?" Emmett said, raising his eyebrows.

"Jake! Can you hear me? Are you all right?" I said, shaking his shoulder roughly. My emotions were whirling, shifting from shock to rage to guilt to worry. It was hard to say which emotion was dominant; the angrier part of me feared that if Jacob regained consciousness, I would just knock him back out again.

"He's coming around," Edward said. He was standing over us, and I looked up at him in confusion. His voice sounded oddly cheerful—gleeful, even. What was going on?

"What…" Jacob mumbled, as he opened his eyes blearily.

I touched his shoulder, still undecided on how I should feel. "Jake…" I hesitated, searching for the right words to say—for _any_ words to say. But Jacob wasn't listening to me. In fact, he wasn't even looking at me. He wasn't paying me any attention at all.

He was staring at something over my shoulder, and I turned around, trying to see what had attracted his interest. I saw Charlie hovering a few feet away, and Renee and Phil staring anxiously. Rosalie and Emmett were standing side by side, Rosalie looking like a runway model in her bridesmaid dress. Emmett was poised for action, the perfect Best Man in a crisis situation.

But none of these faces held Jake's attention; he was staring at only one face in the crowd—a face that was supernaturally beautiful, with snowy skin and warm amber eyes. It was Akiko, the new vampire from the coven in Denali.

And she was staring back

I turned my attention back to Jacob, who looked shell-shocked. "Come on, Jacob, let's get you inside," I said, tugging at his arm ineffectually.

"Here, let me give you a hand," Edward said, reaching to where Jacob lay prone on the ground.

That snapped Jacob out of his daze. He glared up at Edward defiantly. "I can manage," he said, and quickly rose to his feet and stalked off towards the Cullen house.

"Um, excuse me," I said to the bewildered crowd, turning to follow Jacob inside. I didn't dare look at Charlie's face—I didn't want to know what he thought of Jacob showing up and fainting after he'd just walked me down the aisle.

"Jake, are you okay? What happened?" I said once we were inside. Edward followed soon afterwards, placing a protective hand on my hip. I didn't know if I should be irritated or touched—was Edward trying to further provoke Jake?

"I don't know," Jake said miserably, dropping onto the Cullen's white sofa. He ran his hands through his hair roughly.

"Jake's upset because he imprinted," Edward said, his calm voice startling after hearing Jake's, which was rough with pain.

I gasped. "On who?"

Jake pulled his hands out of his hair and gave Edward another glare. "On one of the bloodsuck—vampires," he said, barely able to say the word.

"Akiko," I breathed, finally understanding why her face had held Jake's attention. "You imprinted on Akiko."

"Akiko," Jake repeated, his face twisting as he said the name of his soul mate for the first time. I could see the two sides of his nature warring against one other.

I thought suddenly of the magnets on my fridge at home, and the two opposing sides I realized I'd once been fighting against. I could understand how Jake felt, a least a little.

"Oh, Jake," I said, sitting down next to him and tentatively reaching out to hold his hand. "Has this—has this ever happened before?"

I knew the answer before he shook his head. Of course it had never happened before—vampires and werewolves were sworn enemies, after all.

"Do you want me to fetch Akiko?" Edward asked quietly. I glanced up and could tell that his initial amusement was gone, replaced with a carefully blank expression.

"No," Jake said. It sounded like it took a great deal of effort for him to refuse seeing her. "I don't think I can handle that just yet." He let out all the air in his lungs and looked at me, his eyes shuttered with pain. "How will I tell the pack? How can I explain this to them?"

"It's not your fault, Jake," I said, feeling his fear and confusion as though it were my own. "They'll understand eventually… none of them had any choice. Sam and Quil know that first-hand."

"This is different," Jake whispered brokenly. His eyes began to search mine. "Bella… what if you hadn't chosen Edward? What if you'd chosen me, and this had happened? I still love you, but I won't be able to keep any of my promises…" He let out a shaky laugh that sounded half-way like a sob. He stared at Edward again, looking like he was steeling himself for something extraordinarily painful. "I'm glad she chose you."

Edward nodded silently. He knew what it cost Jacob to make this admission, could hear the pain in Jacob's innermost thoughts.

"Jake… you'll always be my sun," I said finally, squeezing his hand in mine.

"Sure, sure," Jake said, a ghost of his old smile flashing across his face before it contorted again in disgust. "I can't _believe_ this is happening to me. How can I possibly love a vampire? I can't even stand the way they smell!"

"Maybe you'll grow accustomed to it," Edward said thoughtfully, no trace of umbrage in his voice. "Or maybe Akiko will smell differently to you."

"Maybe," Jake said doubtfully. "Not that it matters what she smells like—it doesn't change what she is. What _I_ am."

"Do you want us to talk to her for you?" I asked hesitantly.

"No," Jake said, standing up suddenly. "I'm going to go see Sam before I do anything."

"You're the rightful Alpha, Jake," I said softly. "Remember that. Do what is right for _you._"

"Being an Alpha means doing what is right for the pack," Jacob countered.

"Doing what's best for the pack means taking your needs into account," I said, persistent. "You can't let this drive you insane, Jake. You're going to have to be with her eventually."

"Bella… do you have any idea what this is like for me? Having the woman I'm in love with tell me I have to be with someone else?" Jake sighed. "I've already conceded that you marrying… Edward… was for the best, but I can't process anything else right now. I need to go."

"Jake—" I said, calling after him even as he ran toward the door and morphed into wolf-form, a flash of red-brown disappearing into the woods.

Edward took my hand, which was still stretched out in front of me to where Jacob had been standing seconds before.

"He'll be okay," Edward murmured. "He's just in shock."

"What is going on?" Alice demanded, gliding into the room and fixing us with a stern look. "You know I can't _see_ anything about Jacob. Did he try to take Bella away from you? Is this war?"

"No!" I said, and Edward shot me a glance that was meant to mollify me. But I was too upset for my friend to be soothed.

"Jake just had an… unusual experience," Edward said. "He was not attempting to sabotage our marriage."

"I guess it would have made more sense for him to interrupt _before_ the vows," Alice reluctantly allowed. "But why did he faint? Is he sick?"

"In a manner of speaking," Edward replied cryptically. "He'll recover soon enough, though."

Alice sighed. "I guess neither of you are going to enlighten me."

I looked at her apologetically. "Sorry, Alice, but it's a… sensitive issue."

She nodded glumly, but let the subject drop. "Well, Jasper managed to get everyone calm and happy, so I don't think you'll have any trouble fielding questions about what happened with Jacob. And Rosalie and Emmett started the music for dancing..."

"Shall we?" Edward asked, turning towards me and offering his hand.

I clasped his cool hand in mine and followed him outside. At first I tried to look for Akiko in the crowd, but I was soon caught up by Jasper's effusive influence. I found myself swaying happily with Edward to our first dance as husband and wife, unable to think about anything else entirely.

*

**Author's Note:** I half-way called Jacob imprinting on a vampire! Too bad BD made it gross and creepy. Akiko's name means "Iris, light and bright" in Japanese, which I find incredibly appropriate.

Any feedback is adored :)


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